Between Materialities

flat-out wavering between materialities, a 
guilt-trip down denouement lanes of one-
way memory, remembered vaguely; said 
it isn’t like cruising on empty, at least not 
in the sense of anxious gauge watching - 
although if you’re past that stage all ears 
subsume in an engine’s beat; & all of the 
analogies carry facets of truth we ‘oldies’ 

deny occasionally - but cannot escape in 
an accidental reprieve of favour; we’re all 
products guaranteed of whom we were - 
even so the ‘who really was he?’ theme 
stings like over-enthused backslaps too 
jocularly delivered to be less insulting 

so we fake it any which way; there isn’t a 
choice you alone have unless you own a 
identity patent for real - tho’ crikey, we’re 
still breathing aren’t we, or is imagination 
running over-time; n’ who’s bloody turn’s 
it now to change the beast’s pages…

© 5 September 2014, I. D. Carswell