I am a fraud. This is not me.
I write surprising efficient clarity
and translate
complex notions using different voices.
In this case, ‘voices’ are sets
of vocabularies and structures.
I know good voices. If you have any
questions about this
information, please don’t hesitate.
I am a hoax.
I have no child to speak of.
Any child I have is unsharable like unscalable architecture.
The dim silhouette cast
when I take the words near him
is the TV, your pets and children
you and others like you.
If he is mine, I am your father.
I am a phoney. I’ve never thought
the world could be better.
Cruel, absurd, amoral dehumanisation is
a peerless graceful solution to
the problems of
finite resources and
shared consciousness.
I am a cad. I’ve never loved you.
I just wanted to dance a special dance
with you
and lost my mind
(“Give it back to me, my heart is mine / Take a disco beat and you’ll be fine / Everything I ever want from you / you burn while I am away”).
I am a gadfly. Every uncertainty
about me flashes
neon
and I point
and you say “That’s very nice,
but Honey, I really need to finish this tonight.”
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