shadow

Those i should have loved, i failed
Those who should have loved me, they failed
I hear a scoff, i hear a tut
but you and i know better

For one sacred second
within the space of a poem
we spy truth's slippery shadow
Excise every iota
of self-serving effluvia
and what
is truly
left?

Most never allow
that lacerating lathe of truth
We don't know how
And if we did, we wouldn't

Blinders in place, we prance or stumble on
Ever patching facades of reliability
Ever weaving webs of mutual self-interest
Sometimes one intersection
will hold up for years
or a lifetime
Don't dare call it humyn decency
The path of least resistance?
Sing a self-leveraging serenade!
Don't dare call it humyn decency

In brackish, blackish backwaters poets know
we abandoned them all

TOO inconvenient unsexy unflattering
Run away, a voice cried!
So we ran, oh we ran
And the unfeeling faces of those who fled
did not fail to flee themselves

Would you like the litany of names?
A voyeuristic vomit of guilt and shame?
Those i crucified, those who let me die
Don't tempt me...

How would you exist in perpetual-retribution exemption?
Our reflexive response is the deceit we repeat
Ego dies when we spy our lies
Radical truth begets
radical forgiveness