people talk.
i’d rather not
partake of such pretense
their scornful words and sentiments
present even in silence
‘tis all too rare
to share a laugh
not hinging on the precipice
through tears tinged with inauspice
as our solipsist release
forgive my unabashed candor
sycophants have burned remiss
but once a truth is learned
no luxury can disallow its visage
lest we turn our text of tenuous humanity
to barter
it is the ardor of our unwitting machinations that strikes my heart of hearts
a ritualized recalcitrance
refuses to read between the lines
i know this, for it hearkens from the pits of my own pith’s refrain
a hypocrite as far as i am able to exist a human
unaware are we
of the power wielded by our expression
a proprietary lesson
found on mortuary floors
i have heard the ghastly whispers
wafting through these phantom walls
in the hour of ghostly ire
impervious to my behest
spilling forth from frothing lips
my sentence e’er spelled out before me
here, amid the vast cacophony
of human sanctimony
Max, or Not 