try the epilogue

Well a lot more went on
after that night – imagine
it did and since what I’ve related
to you as we’ve gathered around
this cozy cabin’s crackling potbelly

is taken maybe
not verbatim-verbatim
from the remnants of the diary,
the very fact that a hand
holding scissors made sure

our generation couldn’t know
too many more details –
s
peculate. Yeah I reckon
we could speculate.
What else is there but

speculation? Speculate
or get out and try to make
a dent in that mountainous
pile of firewood.
Hauled to a house built

for madness? Wondered on that.
Became suspicious of it.
Finally crossed it off.
Well because like he said, they abhorred
men who did not care about agendas.

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in poetry, story-poetry, surreal and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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