but if the prose can’t catch it
it’s all up to verse
which will inspire
in Biblical proportions
like a flood
or tornado
usurping homes from Kansas
to a Prison called Oz
and that’s just the early shot
in rise of disillusionment
at the absolute failure
to live up to the legend
that I created & scripted
in my very own mind.
Indeed, it becomes an albatross
suspended around my neck
as I wallow in poetics past
of a long bygone century
that still resonates with unerring beauty.
It would be something to behold
but maybe not from their perspective.
It might not have been so bleak
but for life as a government clerk
and feeling rather useless.
Idiocy in a nutshell
in this existential satori
which sheds old light on new subject;
seems like I had less choice
than even I reckoned before.
7-5-00