The truth lay bleeding at my feet, an
effortless casualty of the conversation
meant for another, a different outcome
a different end game but when the
verbal nuclear warhead goes off, the
effect is of leveling…decimating and
destroying the semblance of sanity, of
agreement and compatibility.

I can wait for the settling, the inevitable
aftermath, the détente that must ensue
but I won’t can’t will not see the facts
for the falsity of thinking believing
having seeing that what I have is not
what I want that the motions I go through
are little…but dreams and vague
notions of love and life.

A genocide of words…of conversation
lost on ears thinking for themselves and 
hearing things unsaid unmeant but
directed attributed to the idea that what
we are becomes what we mean as a
normal way of seeing us being us…yet
it isn’t us can’t ever be us for we are not
our words

Arguments erupt amid the lost idea of
civilization as a contract a promise that
what I do depends on what you her him
they do but with the caveat the clause
the overriding condition that we think
before speaking…understand that
transmission is our responsibility and
reception theirs.