Invisible Man

Fades to the edge of a crowded canteen,
Chainsmokes conversation whispering at himself,
Behind each friendly gesture fixates a subtle threat.

Walks home alone, sleeps rolling,
Dreams a ringing phone, trees, water,
Shadows stropping on a field of wheat.

Wakes each morning to next door’s radio:
It’s sudden bass counterpoints his heartbeat.

Sipping coffee, his morning paper opened
At page three, he smiles down at Janice
Just sweet sixteen then scissors out her
Eyes and nipples: weekends, sits in cafes
Watching girls pass by on the rain slicked
Streets, weekends sits alone and waits.




Kevin Patrick McCann
Illustration Nick Victor




From Still Pondering

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One Response to Invisible Man

    1. …and waits for the final whistle! Lovely poem which had me there.

      Comment by Miller Caldwell on 10 July, 2021 at 10:50 am

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