By way of a second precursor to my “Aesop’s Leap – Fables for Today”, here is something else I’ve recently written:
AS IF HE WERE A KIND OF CHESHIRE CAT
He’s been known to laugh at himself in the mirror,
usually after a skinful, so not automatically
in an incredulous or self-flagellatory way.
More rueful, he might say.
Like when he takes a bathroom break
towards the end of a back-in-the-game date
which seems to be heading in more or less
the direction he’d let himself anticipate.
It’s then you’ll hear his soft collusive bark –
ah you and me again old friend – as if to say
he’s sensed no man of his particular description
will one day stand on either side of anybody’s glass,
but in the broad continuum there still will be this laugh.
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