Oscar in the Looking Glass

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

I’m your mirror
and laugh a lot especially in the morning
when you get up.
A skinny bum
and a belly that begins where the chest used to be,
arms and legs like a matchstick man,
bloodshot eyes
three strands of hair standing straight up
and you steam up my surface
with your foul breath
reeking of yesterday’s booze.
I hesitate to mentioning your ****
it looks like an ancient pygmy
hiding in a garden of weeds.
Go take a shower and dress
you’re a pathetic sight my man.