it is in
the purview
of the hyperbolic
to prance upon
the bones
of pretense
with no preamble
or precognition

planning ahead
is akin
to playing the role
of funeral director
in the final act
of one’s own
one person play
of feeble ambiguity

so on he scribbles
onto the few
remaining unblemished
pieces of vellum
that whip
in the tornado
of self diagnosed
mental failings

another ode
to dreamspires
and prison bars
written in cursive
an attempt to translate
the seconds between
desire
and derelict denial