the brown spot

there it was, staring back at me

from the foggy morning mirror.

I wiped the glass clean for a closer look

thinking it might be a smudge, or a little bruise

from that frantic handball game at the racquet club, or maybe

a newly discovered birthmark, a never before seen item.

and why not? It happens with dinosaur bones in New Mexico,

and certain particles like Quarks or the Higgs Boson.

damn it! there it is, below the temple

just above the zygomatic process. the brown spot!

the mirror’s telling me something. or God. shit!

there it is, brown and unyielding, sticking to my head

like the grouping on uncle Louie’s chrome dome.

I'm in the ozone of the here and now

during closing arguments, as naked and damp as Adam

save for the brown spot made in my image!

there's no way in hell to spin this toward a more favorable outcome.

damn! that's it. the brown spot! I’m done for.