studying a life-sized portrait
of Diogenes. holding a lantern. looking
for one honest man. surrounded by cows.
a horse.
a porcine drunk. a kid thumbing his nose.

the museum was closing in five minutes.
a shame.
because i had just arrived. (a strange statement.
"just arrived".)

a woman suddenly appeared. desperate
to look familiar. (black mascara. trench coat.
could have been a Russian spy.)

the light from Diogenes’ lantern
was touching her face.
illuminating her earrings.
something magnetic stood between us.
if she had burst
into song i would have melted.

“do you like dogs?”
her voice sounded like ice crystals
teasing a dark window.
(who doesn’t like dogs?)

Diogenes
was laughing. i could hear him
from across the canvass.
he knew
a good joke when he saw one coming.