My friend, your tender ego giant-sized,
Makes you condemn the past and yet embrace it,
Find caveman lust your love now canonized,
Antiquely unaware how you’ll debase it.
Your brain is raisin-like with wrinkled dreams
That men have dreamt before you, ossified
By genes promoting pre-historic schemes
That you accept because of youth and pride.
But finding finest thought a platitude,
My swollen ego’s suffered great deflation;
Square one’s the place for me since I’ve reviewed
Past lies, mistakes and gross misinformation.
Reality has shorn my pompous beard;
Those wheels I’ve re-invented now are gone,
And I’m again an empty chalkboard, cleared
Of fantasy and bias, fresh as dawn.
Reprinted with Permission of "Iambs and Trochees," 2004