Oh, such a vile thing, a lie People pick it up from the ground like an oxidized penny or a foil gum wrapper discarded sparkling in the light but once in hand, the shine disappoints so begins the change endothermic to exothermic absorb to release A narrative evolves and twists (ties on swollen garbage bags) until a self-created gemstone is found one of faceted delight and like a butter knife spreads until each corner has been covered putrefaction, compost, ashes decay This person, the catalyst of twist and manipulation, wears the thing, that lie, a crowning, crowing glory of swollen pride the frigatebird's gular pouch for applause. Oh, such a vile thing, a dissembler of truth.
Wanderings and Reflections