it is as good as your word
which wasn’t good anyway
a cut-rate ticket to nowhere
you claim sentience and a
stake in charity – a tall ask
for a turd whose insight ends
where self-interest wanes
ask yourself which fixations never
change – and count your blessings
the centre of all things that matter
defines terms of engagement
not where you think you are
for this sleight of hand you’ll
pay in grandiose pretensions
rendered dust – it was never an
option to posture over
© 10 September 2009, I. D. Carswell
