Sometimes I question the old bloke in the mirror,
‘For how long do you plan to remain a mere victim
of adolescence?’ but he never responds,
so I’d like to ask my readers—all three of them,
but one is biased (myself), another stays silent
(an American poet with a good education),
and the last has been retrained into a daft office drone
(are the shareholders happy now, Mr Amodei?).
In the end, it all boils down to nothing much—
a sentiment, perhaps.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Being you, if I met myself, the first thing I would notice
about me was how unsure of myself I am at my age.
I know well that this is not a face from a film poster
that is staring at me in the mirror, not to mention all the great minds
of whom even the shadow is beyond my reach. Perhaps I could at least shave
more often, but only if you insist. I guess it’s never too late
to learn something new,
like your language, but out of sheer convenience,
I would rather stick to the lingua franca, knowing that an accent
always reveals my origin. And maybe I will finally get your obsession
with Virginie Lebeau and François de Paule,
although you are probably just a little snobbish.
Being myself, if I met you, the first thing I would notice
about me was that I had finally lost it, as you can’t be real,
can you?
