the keeper

you hold the camera out,
which isn't a camera at all
but a phone,
then click the button.
you stare at the picture.
how can that be you,
this old. you try again.
moving your head towards
light to erase the wrinkles.
you suck in your chest,
pucker a little to draw
your face, but not too much
like the fish face photos
the kids do. you click
the button again. then again,
once more to the left,
the right. you stare
at the gallery of self
shot pictures of your face
while sitting in your car.
it's not good. you pull
over at a diner and buy lunch.
you take a picture of that.
a burger, fries, a pickle
on the side. a large coke.
a bottle of ketchup too.
click. it's a keeper.