On Seeing Fiona with Her New Lover

by Peter Kline

1.
In this performance, I'm the watcher.
I'm plainclothes and narcotics.
Mine is the silence
of the majority, not the partner.
At best a bit player, a bit played out.
I'm known as a responsible customer.

2.
She's the co-star to my idea,
scapegoat and sex symbol.
The action happens offstage, under the table,
but I see his thigh, I know how to read the angle.
I see myself in him: I
must keep hidden.

3.
Act III, in which the hero (He must
be a god, that man) succumbs
to the watcher's inner life, whereby
at last he is made real. His death is optional.
It could be done
anywhere-even in her snug white bed.