YOU ARE A FAMOUS ACTOR
and years have passed since that film.
So many years that you've lost track. Decades, maybe?
Watching it again you admire yourself as you would someone else:
Your lithe body,
Your hollow voice,
Your white teeth and lineless face.
It's like seeing your own ghost.
(Celebrities, like everyone, sometimes get lonely.
Unlike everyone, you're especially lonely.
It's like choking and you feel your eyes bulge in panic.)
Press pause during a boring part,
refill your glass,
then look at your spotted hands, your knobby knuckles.
Take a drink.
YOU ARE A FAMOUS ACTOR.
You can pretend like nothing is the matter,
YOU ARE CLEANING YOUR APARTMENT
and lift the pumpkin off the window sill
to dust beneath it.
Suddenly rotten pumpkin is on the floor
as it collapses between your hands,
soft but still orange.
Rotten pulp is on your socks,
on your jeans,
underneath your fingernails.
Strangely, it doesn't smell.
The inside fell out
when you picked it up
(like that gorgeous lover
who stole your savings).
The exterior was so firm
and the ruin was unexpected
(like your parents' divorce
when they seemed so in love).
With violent gestures
you clean the pumpkin off the floor,
Promise you will never again trust the exterior you touch.