Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Revisionist Astrology

I have a love/hate relationship with the truth.
We disagree sometimes, fight like cats
And I get flummoxed by its hauteur.

But it's like a better mousetrap in the end;
Whacking pest ideas with a mechanical lie:
Some God to go before all else, like Kings back in the day.

Nothing it ever says is wrong, though everything is false,
Out-of-context, screaming, massacring elves and gnomes
And what is left of an open dialogue.

But I love the cleanness of its line, its springy step,
The way it conveys civility in a world insane.
I root for the truth, but it loses the game again and again.

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