Certain preventative measures
are taken purely for their own sake,
for the pure pleasure of prohibition
and the attendant sense of unabashed power.
Lamely, my own shadow cowers
in the very light which reveals it.
This is where the argument backs up
and into its murky premise.
We haven’t enough disbelief between us
to keep up this charade.
What’s contained within the forehead wrinkles
which so adorn the Zeitgeist?
The scent of mustard overwhelms the corridor.
Trust me, I have my ghosts to bear.
But what to wear in the process?
It’s all coming unhinged anyway…