You can make light of it if you wish,
brush it off with a shrug and a wry
smile, tomorrow will be a new front
page, another breaking story.
But the controversy still rages.
You’ve never listened to the voices
anyway, never heeded the chaste
call to complimentary reason, never
agreed the hoary ambiguities of
profligate wisdom.
You play it your way. These vignettes
of your artistry are all that matters; the
truth is a play on words that no-one
but the naked man in your heart
can see.
© 2007, I.D. Carswell
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