Read Poem: Mirrorman, by tjbarkwill

David is cooking.
David watches TV.
Disparages the show.
Doorbell rings.
He opens the door,
onto himself.
They both are.
They both are.
The one outside
comes inside.
He sits.
The other one
who, even now,
thinks of himself as the original
plays along.
The one who is seated
regards himself,
his other self.
You can tell
he’s not impressed.
“I’m your reflection”
He says,
a little needlessly.
“I mean, literally.
From the mirror.”
David, the one who doesn’t
claim to be from the mirror,
Goes to the mirror…
And sees the room
reflected back.
There is no reflection of him.
For a moment,
even though he knows
this is impossible,
since he hasn’t been bitten
by a bat
or by a pale man with a widow’s peak
wearing a cloak or cape,
he wonders, nonetheless,
if he has become a
But quickly
understands this is
wishful thinking
(having always rather
wished he were a vampire)
and gradually accepts the fact
his reflection is
sitting in the chair
carefully regarding him,
appraising him,
judging him.
Not unreasonably,
the one sitting says,
“We have to do something
about this.”
On this, at least,
they concur.
“You must return to your mirror.”
“Our mirror.”
“Not so long as you’re out here.”
“Certainly, someone needs to be in there.”
“Obviously it should be you.”
“It’s where you belong.”
“Perhaps the one who belongs
on that side
is the one who doesn’t succeed
on this side.”
And so he reels off
A litany of failure,
An endless list of misdeeds,
A catalog of unintentional cruelties,
An inventory or ineptitude,
A tally of dawdling.
And it becomes obvious
That this is a life
poorly lived.
A life wasted.
Though he would like
to argue,
the David who still
thinks he is the original,
cannot help but agree.
“Honestly, I think you
would like it in there.
No demands,
No responsibilities.
And, if you don’t like it
we can always swap back.”
So David who thinks
he’s the original
steps into the mirror.
And David, who has come
from the mirror,
but also considers himself
the original,
settles into life
to live it for all
it’s worth.
Because this is
And there’s nothing worse
than being stuck
in the mirror.
As David, who still thinks
he’s the original, has just


Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

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