Self Evaluation

a poem

Naked in the mirror, the Great Beast clicks his tongue.

“I can still fight,” he says.

Impotent folds of flesh

now replace mountains of muscle

I’ve gotten old. I’ve grown small.

The Great Beast still wants to fight

he probably could

In French, Hugo described Quasimodo

as a “broken giant.”

I knew that was my fate

Here it is.

broken, no longer giant

just a man. an older man.

I hate it.

Not much gets the Great Beast down.

Failure makes him moan and cry

One failure in particular

makes him moan at night

what have I done?

what have I done?

We can wear colors now

Says the poor knight

trying to make the moment lighter

Indeed, purples, reds, blues

bright yellows, reds, a lady in red

can break your heart, particularly her

I didn’t mean to get old

I didn’t think I would

I still got work to do

I suppose

My wonky eye got more wonky

“Hey Campbell! You look like Popeye!”

In the eighth grade, they sent me home

with my school pictures.

Pictures taken by Bob Hearin’s company

“I look like I killed the Lindberg Baby.”

I tell my mom

You’re very handsome

You’re a terrible liar

Next time, I won’t smile.

No part of the tasks before the great beast

or the poor knight requires

even the slightest bit of beauty

There must be love, though

love enough to pull the universe together

Dr. Alexander said the spot over my eye

would one day be covered by eyebrows

I don’t suppose it matters now

you’re ugly

true

true, I am ugly

but I wear bright colors now

and I love enough to heal the universe