In a Previous Life

In a previous life, I was truly feared.
Walking the streets in a gray suit,
condiments staining a wide tie,
belly bouncing over a black belt.

They knew who I was, so they scattered,
like pests from steps of the pest remover.
Sometimes I couldn’t help but smile but
mostly I remained stolidly firm and stern.

When my mother died, I was alone.
I felt the life draining from my body.
Just dressing in the morning was a feat.
Making it to the office, Olympian.

So I quit and began to wear jeans.
Got my hair styled, began to smile.
Yet they still see me as the Tax Man,
though I was always hiding from them.

 

#### Poet’s Notes ####

(This became wrinkled in my work bag!)

Photo of First Draft:

In a previous life

 

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