Did your buttonhole come loose
when you tried to decipher my
glands of thought; a mind of an
island so lost to distance, that
even the supercomputer of the
universe cannot figure out what!
I am a candidate, whose treasure
of candidness, resists being supplied
to publicity. This intimacy cannot
be split publicly. But I will tell you,
I am no meteor falling into the world’s
atmosphere, intent on its destruction
Yes, I have enemies; but I was marked
on the forehead with a symbol of protection
to let loose on what I randomly decide or choose
Did you ask me if they were reading my mind?
I am like an arcane wine bottle that
if you uncork, would leave you intoxicated
and hopelessly transitioning among circuits
that keep guessing their polar magnetic dispositions
I can assure you it is not you I want to unravel,
but the perpetrator pretending he is all but
the traitor. As you suggested, I should be handed
over to a shrink. I am the highest mountain to climb
And my hieroglyphs are hidden so deep
under bricks of lead, that you wouldn’t reach;
like if you set out investigating the location of
the shem, that was the Ark of the Covenant,
you would only be mired in hypotheses
You must know, that I even hid my ribaldry
against the eternal treachery; till it was prone
And your shrink will sadly never discover God
in all the exploration; because the only shrink
that can tell God, is God and him alone.
montes-musings.blog 