Rorschach Test

I stand on my hotel balcony
Smoking a cigar
Gazing across 29th Street at an open window in the next building.
A man sits at a desk
Wearing large black headphones
Staring at two wide computer screens.
He sips from a water bottle
Looks up and sees me
We lock eyes for a moment
Nods in my direction
Returns to his work.
When I think he's not looking I snap his picture with my phone
To memorialize the distant connection
He sees me and shakes his head.
He says something.
To me? To himself?
I give a friendly wave with my cigar.
He rises
Loosens his pants
Turns around and places
His naked fleshy butt against the window
Where it flattens into a Rorschach test
That isn't hard to interpret.

© Poem Fix 2012
Photo: Poem Fix

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