We're All Alone
“Nobody reads this shit,”
You proclaimed,
Handing me a book written
For no reason other than survival.
Publish or perish.
“Nobody reads this shit, either.”
I muttered,
Handing the judge a brief written
For no reason other than comfort.
Eat what you kill.
“Will you read my nonshit?”
I asked again, this time
Handing you pages written
For no reason other than need.
I was not worthy.
“Obviously I’ve mistaken you for someone who cares.”
I thought, almost appreciating the irony and
Retracting the pages
For no reason other than regret.
I can endure the sweet ache of your flustered rejection.
It is you who will miss the seamless web.
September 15, 2005
Posted by cko at September 16, 2005 12:59 PM