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What's a name?

What is a name?
Glorified ticket to fame?
 
Or something else entirely?
Are you a fallen tree in the forest
or are you a pair of ragged claws
crawling on the ocean floor?
 
Breathing delicately behind the bushes
as the funny frogs
play their dry reeds and knee spoons.
Trying hard not too laugh in delight.
 
II.
When I look in the mirror
and witness the other entity
that frames itself as me,
do I call him out?
Does he respond to my voice?
Does my reflection know how
he himself looks like?
 
What is a name’s jurisdiction?
Symphonic and beautiful
natural identity
or social contract that
is signed without consent.
 
Owned...
or accepted.
 
III.
Where’s the water in that cup?
How do you see the water?
Half-empty or half-full
doesn’t make any sense
if there isn’t any water,
friend.
 
A rose is a rose is a rose
A dog is a dog is a dog.
But how much of a dog
is a dog?
And how many roses
know of bouquets?
 
IV.
 
I am the identity man
the identity man
the identity man
 
I am the identity man
whose face was white
as coal.
 
Today, tomorrow,
morning and evening
I stagger the streets and
they greet me
without knowing me.
They see me
without vision.
 
I enter as an executive
and leave as a clerk.
I buy alcohol as an adult
and leave as giggling child.
I register unadulterated white
and come home dirty Mexican.
 
I am the identity man
whose face was melted,
bones shaken and crumbling,
youth evaporated and gone,
white film covering the eyes...
 
I am the identity man
whose name has become
forgotten
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