A perennial witness
to seemingly surreal crimes,
my native skill is commercialization of infamy
against a blueprinted future - a shortcutter
against all evidence of a cynical past-
a wannabe arsonist,
an obsessed sleepwalker dreaming only
about blissfully erasing the loud and obvious
for good, for better,
about estompating the pitiful weakness notes
a faith-healing prophet and stupidity donor
preaching pretend euphoria
to the vain and lonely.
reconstructing the reverse chronology prose
only to understand why
there are no scars at birth. How come
maturity comes always with a price?
so unaffordable and overwhelming -
like an inflation of remorse.