Whats His Face
His name could have been - 'What's his face?'
We hunt for an epithet to fit an absent memory.
In truth, he did escape many people.
Some recalled him, but could
only gesture a vague misshapen identity
with unsteady hands.
Some plotted a meeting wherein
X marked an intersection
where he once met our eyes,
eyes that floated away
as if he were a feature
in a landscape only half painted.
What's his face, escapes any cognomen,
not because he is a nonentity,
it was we,
we who were never there
to notice.
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