I’m watching a movie about me and see
a full confession stitched across my chest
in big block letters                
                                  you are asleep so I stop
the show and go           
                              to the bathroom, put on a
shirt to cover the truth but in the gymnasium
my muscles betray me, each shot falls short,
the ball doesn’t clear the net                    
                                                    on my knees I see
a distant golfer swing with a body I can feel
but it’s not mine                             
                              the white ball sails like a flag
flown in victory, lands with intent where it’s
meant to be on the beautiful grassy plain of
irony:           
            it’s not mine unless I can give it away           
            and when I give it away it’s not mine