which 'me' will you read on this blog today?
the imaginary one
who speaks through the literary personae
of Wraecca or Ghost or the Entity
and moans like a Rimbaud unfortunate enough
to have made it to the age of 59?
the nostalgic Beatnik who talks pussy and visions
of some pharmacological Paradise
while tapping at his keyboards in his comfortable den
with a sandwich and a cold glass of water
retreading old melodramas of romanticism
ridiculous in our brave new world of technology and alienation?
or the 'real' one
in love with his one partner but not blind to the parade
who tosses and turns each night worrying about age and money
who knows his litany of life mistakes inside out
and inside out and inside out ad nauseum (and won't bother to check the spelling)
who retired a month before our world economies collapsed
and finds himself as shuffling as in his youth?
who's older and wiser but discredited in these matters
enduring the 'tsk-tsking' of the obscenely fortunate
and the malicious fellow traveler equally
too sorry to even be sorry any longer?
or yet another 'me'
who stands aside and watches both and spills the beans about
either one who happens to gain ascendancy in my day's
and knows that I am neither one and both of them at once
stands up for neither out of paralyzing ennui or bright eager
vital zest to be at the day while the day is happening
careless of either though he knows he should be
because he knows people will hear and see what they want
to hear and see and he's not psychic enough to know
just what will return at some point to bite him on the ass?
reader I'm curious to know also and when I stop caring
that will be it for this blog
be it received by who will receive it...
Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito. All rights reserved.