MANGY TRUTH
Mark Twain, pilot, plummets
to the river-depths.
Hobo-poet steps
Twin Cities morris-dance (let’s
follow him). The deep dive
of the mystery of each
child – landed on a beach
in Egypt, or in Bethlehem (I’ve
got a certain kid in mind). Already
requiem in Alexandria
(the library). Memento mori.
Osiris? Full of bookworms, Henry.
A Master Mason? Hire ‘im.
11.32 ft/sec...
– wait a sec – ham
radio? In RI? The signal’s dim.
Garfield died 23.5 degrees
off Library pedestal.
So we meet the eternal –
a starry Book Depository (seas
rising... queasy feeling) charms
the assassin into travesty
(sick temper, see).
O westward course of life’s alarms!
I don’t know where we’re going, Hobo
Henry wails. An infant
Providence is born. Want
mangy truth? Frail monarch is a rainbow.
12.24.18
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