Thursday, July 7, 2022

poem

 Teague

In college Teague told me

I had to get an identity

I was pissed

He’d seen right through me


That I was a fraud

An emulator

Devoid of substance

A clever fake 


So I went out and got one

More my style

A witch's concoction

Of weirdo loner intellect


But then that one

Got a little stale

So it had to go

I found another


Churned through 

A whole succession

Of ill-fitting personas

Recycled a few of the old


Meanwhile time passed

I did this and that

Made a family

Bought a house 


Figure I’ll run into 

Teague again someday

How could I forget that shit-eating face?

Sit down for a beer, get soused


Tell him I’m back to square one

No clue who I am

I hear you man, he’d say,

Sort of in the same place.


We’d part ways

A good firm shake 

And head home to the ones

Who could tell us what we’d become 


7/7/22

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