The Map of a Mirage The streets, the houses & the books,the possessed rooms, the inviolate joythat inhabits gardens. Climate change,the enigma burning on the walllike a hunting trophy. All this, nothing more than a blink, a mirage.A foggy carnival, a congregation of elves,the light sleep of an ascetic in the desert. The clocks have a mocking air about them here,the almanacs are true satires, doors & windowsclose & open on the most confusing landfill. Remoteness, a sonata to the ears.Ah, the dream of the encounter was so short.What are these trifle thoughts against eternity? You can Say my Name but I prefer to listento a rhino's monolog or dream about a salmonin the stomach of a bear. Another city born ofashes where a Cartesian man can call me by my name.I hear you laugh we do not understand each other.Let's not listen to humanity ask why mirrors were invented& thus, my existence was decided. Sergio A. Ortiz is a two-time Pushcart nominee, a four-time Best of the Web nominee, and 2016 Best of the Net nominee. 2nd place in the 2016 Ramón Ataz Annual Poetry Competition. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in FRIGG, Tipton Poetry Journal, Drunk Monkeys, Bitterzeot Magazine, and ONE, Jacar Press. He is currently working on his first full-length collection of poems, Elephant Graveyard.