one for the time being...

In truth I am a liar

I believe what I am are the things I will become

I have no economy

I am a mutable fixed stranger

Inwardly I cry outside I am a shell

I’m hung up on words

Exhausted in meanings

I can’t stop speaking or thinking

I maintain my weakness

I maintain my inspiration with grass

I believe what I think I am I will become

Memory is meaningless and all persuasive

I watch a half-naked moon

Waxing in black air

Nietzsche claimed God is dead

I claim I do not care

But this I can not go on speaking

Without risk of an

Honest portrait of self