I knew straight away,
like a rabbit darting across traffic
knows the extent of its quickness.
I had wanted to emerge without
emerging. A private debut,
no needling.
What happened, of course,
was threefold, like a Chekhovian
drama. First, I gave in
as some might give birth. Then,
I made the decision. Last, I stayed,
which had the staying power
of an image, a hook-handed man.
A rifle in the umbrella stand.
What do you think?