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Coming off of the A-Train at west 4th
same as every other night

basketball courts made famous by Carroll by way of Dicaprio
going, hurriedly to nowhere in particular

I spotted her in peripheral
Warholus friendus

Leibowitz, that is

not usually a fan, in the fanatic sense
still I approach
a signed copy of Vanity Fair for my coffee table would be fun

a "conversation piece"

Hey! I say
I usually don't do this but I am a big fan
of your Rolling Stone photos

a short silence long enough to make me realize the error
momentary lapse of reason

but certainly not humility

"I am not Annie Leibowitz"
"I am FRAN Leibowitz"


I knew that!

and I turned and walked quickly away
feeling like those tourists
that I pretensiously snicker at

how did she feel?
to be mistaken for another talented woman

or worse
to be ignored and abandoned quickly
once found out to be only

And foolish me

the victim
Not of ignorance
but of a mistake and the inability to stay and face my flub

I would not have even approached the photographer
I am not a fan

in the fanatic sense

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