Companion
People are polite in the city,
in the suburbs he is noticed, pointed
out to me like a flat rear tire
or a hole in my pants.
He is not visible to me
if I steer clear of calm lakes and
shop windows. The sound of
cars, of walking, honking geese,
drown out his humming.
Seen in mirror-lined halls, his stride
longer, transparent legs visible
outside of my khaki clad ones.
His belly protrudes from my own,
bouncing. Occasionally I break into a run
to lose his body, see my own
leaner lines. As I brush my teeth,
crooked ones project in front.
Distracted I scrub air.
by Caitlin Thomson - Caitlin Thomson is the co-founder of The Poetry Marathon, an annual event that involves hundreds of poets, world wide. Territory Prayer, her third chapbook was just published by Maverick Duck Press. You can learn more about her writing at www.caitlinthomson.com