Sunday, February 17, 2008

Poetic Justice




Forever it seems I’ve loved you… forever it seems, yet at some distance. What other place?

“CAGE” -- a thieve's argot. Behind this bridle, a seizure by the denizens.
Behind a bar of metal, of soap or of popular opinion?

…until the only thing left to decide is… what to do (but I won’t ruin it for the rest of you.)

Theory-lending by the effete. Tired allegories. Truth or something like it
(and leave it at that). It’s all a matter of shadings.

And so it goes. This part is over. Poetic justice? I only wish.

K.P.
* I understand you, B -- in acknowledgement to "Piers Plowman."