Hidden by the Trees
You seek truth, Diogenes?
Begin by forgetting
What they told you was a lie
Even though they might
Have thought it was the truth
Fluid fiction hides
In the syllables of words
In the single-celled inventions
Of the mind
Cancer fiction spreads
With the separating cells
A metastasizing tumor
In reality
Feeding on self-interest
Feeding on the fear of mortality
In a plastic box of pictures
In the cellulose perceptions
Of normality.
Distill
Disconnect.
Pull the cords.
Pour the liquid
Off the soup
Leave crystal residue:
Tetrahedron maze
Of interlocking molecules
Of truth nobody told you
Of truth nobody wants.
From Poems of the New Old West
Copyright 2002, Jack Purcell