single truth

a single “truth” would

dispose of her/his motivations,

something so recognizable

that the head could no longer be

turned away,

something that bubbled on the fine

line between a stomach full of

butterflies & a stomach full of

wasps---

a single “truth” would condemn all

the lies,

holding up a mirror to the world

with a hacking of a phlegm wad

into the wrongs of history,

regardless of whatever liar was

lecturing &

a single “truth” could get the heart

pumping again, out from this

deadened accident---

a single “truth” like the one great

work that the artist dreams of,

could change the former word to

“can,”

yes, a single “truth” could

glue the puzzle pieces with

permanent fixture &

if unyielding, maybe it would stand

the test of time &

if unyielding, maybe it would start the

positive ball rolling &

if unyielding, maybe it would end the

need of a world like

“maybe”---

it might be

something that could illuminate,

it might be

something to feel & not feel guilty

about feeling,

it might be something as beautiful

as

a soundtrack to die to,

but it would bear no explanation,

for it would be pure &

it would bear no need for purity,

because it would eliminate the

other, but then it would have to

present itself in some kind of place

where all was diametrically opposed &

yet the grey area remains---

the discovery of just how naïve

a short human life can be,

comes slapping like a hard hand to the

face on the briskest of Winter days,

reminding that all the inner workings of

the actual body,

churning, twisting & grinding all aspects of

this biomechanical thing called a

“self,”

do so on their own,

without the need of any questions,

any “truth,” any meaning, any

song to sing to.