he grabbed the pen, scribbled furiously.
he said he was writing his memoirs, ala
the life he lived and how he lived it:

furiously. he said i could leave if i wanted;
confused, i stared and decided to stay;
i was watching a man in edification, musing,

as if hyperbole to bolster his vitae o' life
would be the fountain of youth, perhaps truth?
his soul lurching with each incongruent awareness.

he sifted thru all the words, all had assisted in lies;
lies chest-bumped by the bent truth, a rainbow of lightning,
as though evolution was killing God, fate lies fallow, unused.

05/19/2011

Posted on 05/19/2011
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan