My fifteen minutes of fame 

will be spread across all the accidental photographs 

I‘ve sauntered into 

There I am in the back of your shot at the Lincoln Memorial

Or behind your family at New Smyrna beach…

Or at your wedding party at the Chateau

I’m the one with the rakish hat with the brim twisted up

And the silly smile

Like an eager extra on a movie set

trying to catch the eye of the director…

I’m good at this

I can speed or slow my walk 

for maximum exposure…..

Years from now

as you are going through dusty albums

Your grandkids 

Will point me out…

Whose that  guy grandma?

Damn he’s in all your photos…

There he is again?

Is he famous or something?