Reflection

by Franz Wright

I wear this small fish hook
of crucifix
Look

how it helps
keep the head weighted
down

down with shame, with
the glory
and shame

Right here
it hangs,
near

the heart’s
hidden room
where

a table stands
set for me
not

a dark bar
(no more
that pointless horror)

Table
for two: one
invisible host

and the guest
who is anyone
hungering

thirsting and
hungering
and meeting himself

for the first time,
the maggot
waiting

in the mirror
there at
the bottom

of the
drained
chalice —