
It was an eerie recognition--
my eyes were moving slower than they should
slower than they could
slower than everything else at hand
Apparently I would have to make up the time in the air--
and as of yet, I wasn't quite sure how to do that--
make it up
After all, I was particularly unskilled at covering an indiscretion--
a bad liar, in fact
Lightning seemed to be striking closer to me,
forked,
and here I was talking about how muggy it was
The wake-up calls were agonizing--
in a haze of blue
of blur
of incongruence--
the lids a precursor of the day to come
The nomination had been all but fulfilled--
of course it would be in the mirage ahead--
the prodigal's address
Maybe he was right. Maybe there were no accidents.
Ah sweet Kismet!!!!!!
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