Kleopatra

do not accuse me of being a grammarless fool,

you know well

the speed of my thought is hampered

by punctuation.

do not accuse me of returning wrong for good

nor discourse on why this is that or that is this

you sorely miss my point

and drive home the force of your agony.

stupidity reigns like an angry dog,

the forces of cruelty creep upon one

there's something of death in all this

sickness, death, and goneness...

it is not so much to live as to die and speak of

uncoiled souls who fork the night

and keep their posts.

barren the earth, barren the soul

and rain drops like a silly lash

all the misquoted words of youth,

feint belles of somethin only mutely remembered.

don't accuse me of a single thing

without

and i shall tell you....

what is true.