Self Concept on Halloween

Bad stuff doer
wierd old man
mad bus photographer
street rider
waiting to be wiped out by Autumn.

I tell the waitress how
I always wanted to be a criminal
or at least look like one
wearing black coat and balaclava
with goggles under my helmet.

"criminals don't wear helmets,"
she says, original and poetic.
I tell her,
"Damn."