by Andrew Kovitch

Created on: December 12, 2008

Pull in front of the house

with the most Christmas lights

and smile because you're supposed to.

There are messages

on the machine too,

all the usuals,

mom,

the brothers,

best friend,

that girl who keeps calling.

And when you check

your Email

that's backed up too.

Up the stairs,

back to your cave

with all your

gadgets

and

trinkets,

the television set

on mute

while

some music

plays.

You're

nothing

special,

but

they

clamor

for

you

anyway.

Turn the

light off,

let

that music

sink

in.

There's

a mirror

above your desk

but

no

one

looks

in

there

anymore.

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