Thursday, 2 December 2004

Reasonable

The envelope on which I wrote a poem... it raises itself as a question.

The poem was not a poem but an aphorism.



Potency is the regard of the dreamer, it said.



I left the envelope in a friend's room. It was nothing to do with him, save his presence. He read it and felt ashamed.



I have been a bad friend, he said.



I denied his statement.



That wasn't about you, I said. That was about someone else.



But it could have been about me, he said. It could have been about me.



It wasn't, I insisted.



It may as well have been, he said. It may as well have been.

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