I don’t have letters after my name,
nor bailiffs after my goods and chattels;
I am solely to blame
for any skirmishes and battles
that I have entered into
with the dubious intention
of staking my claim
to the wealth of a nation;
and I have ‘never’ liaised with the Devil;
though, to give him his due,
he has ‘never’ ‘ever’ asked me to.
I don’t receive many letters
with my name emblazoned
upon the envelope;
I live in hope,
not literally, but laterally,
and how long is a piece of rope?
What is there left when all soap is gone?
Why do rhetorical questions matter so little to me;
the former? The latter?
the letter of the law is unsure upon this point,
and, so, I anoint myself with the moisture of sweat,
or, better yet,
a lack of physical and mental debt.
We are ‘all’ living in a material world,
and I am a material;
well, maybe knot.
becomes less ev’ry day.
PS Good Luck with the above.