This poem is for a poetry reading, tonight in St Petersburg, Florida, the subject is self-portrait.

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He took more of these,
than he’ll care to admit
And should he admit it,
he’ll toss in the caveat;

He didn’t find the angle.

He’d wanted the angle,
that one, elusive angle,
the one that will say he,
knew nothing of angles;

He didn’t find the angle.

He admitted to more of,
than he knew of to care
And seems he is hiding
but what, no one knows.