the problem is


they think i am an intellect,

the kind who could kill with a

deft parry of ideas but

we know the truth, you and i,

that i have only ever had

one question, never my own,

and even that i could not,

repeated in differing ways and tones,

ever get close to answering.

so i buy more books, reading

some but neglecting more,

and steal the words, the histories

and finish by neglect

incapable of any discipline

except that of the drunk,

the idiotic stupor.


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