Narcissus Poeticus 

We walk that walk to the open mic

in our dozens, our scores, our hundreds:

three appearances might make up

our fifteen minutes of fame.

We ask you to read, and re-read,

our lines in pamphlets, booklets,

online outlets, magazinelets.

For back in our nests and garrets

we have taken some verbal selfies:

some snapped very close, convex-faced;

some written at arms length, 

a little background creeping in;

some written with a special sonnet-stick.

But verbal selfies all the same:

ego logorrhoea. Ecce homo.