I set the brightness to one bar <br />and see in the face that slides onto the paper tray <br />the moment before Hiroshima <br />flickered––the eyes narrowing, diminishing to pupils <br />in the abrupt flare <br />of light that precedes the burning (of <br />image upon paper, <br /> <br />or rubble) . I mark the youth- <br />fulness, the smoothening of contour, lightening <br />of five o'clock shadow. <br />This is all it takes <br />to annul two decades––a fluorescent bulb <br />and a sheet of glass. This is all it takes–– <br />ignition, <br /> <br />just as a self-cleaning oven <br />sets itself on fire <br />to burn away the residue of countless meals–– <br />year after year peeling back, <br />coating flaking away <br />to expose what lies beneath–– <br />the bridge of a nose, <br />cheekbones slanting into light.<br /><br />Sean McDowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/photocopying-my-driver-s-license/
