I decide to be famous
only to myself. It is
so much easier and my

tender, so lightly bruised
ego now thanks me for this
demilitarized zone, this

padding, as it were,
from the knocking about
it has undergone, lo,

this more than a
half-century of
my fame-seeking.

Together, we breathe
a sigh of relief as
the Sunday afternoon wind

sighs through the topmost
maple and oaks, here
on my unfamous porch.