I am on the autobus with my wife on the way back
from Faro to Lagos. She is asleep in the seat
next me when I notice she and I are sitting
behind our self’s. Astounded, I reach up
and tap my self on the shoulder. This, of course,
made my other self tap the person in front
of him on the shoulder.
We all three turn around: the woman he tapped,
surprised to be looking at my bald-spot,
my self, surprised to be looking at his bald-spot,
and the man I’m staring at behind me,
surprised to see me staring at him.
When I turn back around, my other self is gone
along with my wife beside me.
The woman, shocked at seeing me disappear
into my self, back a seat from her, faints
into the arms of the man next to her.
My other wife, now kitty-corner from me,
is beginning to stir. She looks at the empty
seat next to her and then back at me.
What are you doing there, she asks?
The bus filled up, I say. I gave my seat
to an older woman. She just got off.
What is all this commotion about, she asks?
A woman fainted in front of you, I say. I think
this is our stop, I say, as I move hurriedly up
along side her. She looks at me. I thought you had
a blue tie on. No, I changed it to green just before
we left. Oh, she says, not realizing I’m not the me
she came with.