I examine your mugshot
in the domestic abuse records
of Palm Beach County.
I find your eyes bloodshot,
red veins bulging with realization.
Your forehead branded with the lineage
of your rabid male ancestry,
now another criminal, wife beater,
another deadbeat drunk slithering
through the dialogue of strangers who now
know your name but will never see you
face to face, perhaps a potential employer
or candidate for your new wife.
The reputation you crafted
so rigidly, tarnished in your naked expression,
the cyanide of your psychosis
summoned with the smack
of a camera flash.
And I cannot help
but break a smile.