Camouflage

By 7^th grade I was obsessed

with disappearing.  I had developed

many camouflages by then –

I launched jokes like tranquilizers

disorienting unsuspecting targets

while flashing a trademark smile-

the way a child declares deceitfully

 “look, there’s a clown”

I hid behind layers and layers

of Cheese Danish conscientiously

consumed at recess- as many as

time would permit and my loose

change would afford

I left nothing to chance