Certainly the ushers who pass the baskets know me as a miser.
When I walked in, the kids applauded. They were like, “The poet’s back!”
He could see I was American, but I thought he was unlikely to harm me.
I floated in the tub, my head bobbing, until I felt slick as a seal.
The engineers seemed ripe for mockery, some more than others.
No one answered. I turned to his parents. My stomach felt on fire.
We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.