Antihero

Are you cynical?
I’m not.
Die.

Are you trying to be the hero?
I’m definitely not.
You can’t see me.

I’m just trying not to
antagonize the rabid dog at my fence or
sew my fingers together or
pop the child’s favorite balloon
with a rusty razor blade or
bring any notice whatsoever
to the protagonist
of an incredibly unimaginative story that’s
more like a prolonged senseless beating
than a beer commercial.

I look out the window and shudder.
It’s just not for me.

I blend in with the drapes.

I am the drapes.

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