mmdclxxxiv

(part one)

I have not forgotten
we sound
the same when we say the same things like people of a certain time. As if
history were not over.
                                                      —Laura Moriarty

“What’s on the list for today?”
I look back and forth in
terror, searching for anything.
“We’ve got years to get it
done,” I look back and forth,

the manner less spastic. These
last words are balm, a stanch
for the deepest of cuts which
only allow a minute or two of
more life. A sad fly zips by in

disgust. If we start with the
premise that every single indi-
vidual lies (quite literally, the
entire embodiment of our spec-
ies depends on it in a way, it

is built into culture, it is written
in Amy Vanderbilt, the circum-
stances sometimes quite elaborate
and fun; or guilt-inducing). Be the
person you are, but I prefer ease

and an amalgamation of real
and fun, I value honest and ...
real (the former, from my
test runs, most especially)
but, I’m a liar. By necessity at

times, using etiquette of others.
At other times, or just because
I’d rather for whatever the
reason, perhaps even out of
spite, quell my truth, or with

which I seem no longer familiar...