Damion Hamilton on the Other Side of the
Physiognomy
Was one's fate really determined by
A face? I notice faces in buildings
And places of work, and wonder sometimes
And see faces passing in cars and
Bus stops and wonder a lot of times
I notice people's occupations or no occupations
And wonder sometimes, all the time
About destiny and fate
Police officers have faces, construction workers
Have faces, and I notice the faces of office
Workers and librarians
Some faces seem to be drawn to each other
And others seem not to be
Some seem to loathe one another with only
A slight glance; some faces seem so calm
While sitting a computer for eight hours
A day
And some faces seem vicious even as a child
And one looks at a crime newspaper
And notice the faces in there for: murder,
Robbery, larceny--- some of these faces
Seem passionate, could one break out
Of the fate of one's face?
And one knows the faces of famous people
And geniuses, all those faces
And one sees the faces on subways and the
Faces of the poor, the face of the aristocrat,
The face of the peasant, the face of the bourgeois,
The face of the criminal, the face of the beggar,
The face of the lover, the face of the prude,
The face of the saint, the face of the killer,
The face of the mob,
Could parents pass their face down to their offspring?
Could one break away from their face, and be their own person
Did a face determine one's fate?
© Copyright Damion Hamilton 2007