HEADSHOT
Every evening
he buys his smokes
and looks up at the wall
behind the counter
hoping it’s gone.
Every evening
it stares back at him,
the ghost of his faded attempt
8 x 10
black and white
bleached and curled by time
dead center
bookended by a sad comedian with a pony tail
and a professional weight lifter who signs his autograph with a smiley face.
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