His Way

He turned out to be
a bad-medicine-man,
a man with a forked
tongue, cleft heart -
he turned out to be
self-thinking only - oh
did you exist, was that
yours?

He turned round and was
a different face of divers
smiles, mouth twisting
somewhat at his own
merriment -
it turned out he went very
easily packing and taping
boxes in a fury and a fever-
rush as if he could
push the future toward him
and swallow it whole -

someone else he turned out
to be, I couldn't stomach
him: all false grin and
promises, preoccupied with his
own revolving sun - it
turned out he wasn't the one
and the wool was pulled:
what a shock the light of day
when I saw things his way.

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