Maniacal Ranting at the End of My Time Here

I once met a man with fifteen cats.
My policy is even one deems
a man untrustworthy.
So, I told him all my secrets,
he didn’t tell a single one.

I met a woman with a serpent’s tongue.
Her truth sounded like lies,
and mothers guarded children
even as she swung from garden noose.

I met a gypsy with the third eye.
Carnival coins and half truths
her speciality
–and birthright.
Abandoned by caravan, old and blind,
her milky eyes had seen too much.

I met a pimp brokering love.
Street corners and every flavor
his calling card. Self-proclaimed
lifetime bachelor, kept a wife
and three kids two states over.

Thread, long and red,
tied these people together.
And I, one hand on string,
one feeling its way in front,
felt the string pull from seam,
so we all wandered the space
where time has no dominion
and names have no meaning.

2 thoughts on “Maniacal Ranting at the End of My Time Here

  1. This poem is not so much of a maniacal ranting as it is a deep insight into the lives and minds of our world as a whole. Well done for capturing a snap-shot of that world from your very unique perspective, and sharing it with us! Beautifully crafted!
    Adri.

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