… Let me tell you about it all, all.
Let me sum it up again with an awkward, imprecise cascade.
… Truth is a mighty volume of epigrams and paradoxes.
… Real truth is caught in a single word,
… And the ultimate truth bleeds even now in a-
Wretched mess of skinless time. Time!!
… The last living poetess just crossed the fence and told all her secrets.
So, now I can’t even try to script bad poetry anymore.
So, now I can no longer try to sound like an eclectic.
Little son of bitch…
Now I’m gonna hafta wait for the next living poet.
The last living magician sold all her tricks and then be disappeared.
So, now I can’t even try to fool my friends all their so-called-
So, now the illusions are less than fodder for fools- and even-
So-callled wisemen- and maybe poets, too.
The last politician is about to…