Poem of the Week: Two Pens


My second Pen scribbles over the ink
of the first with exasperation.

I always carry two pens to write with.
One is not enough. One may be stolen,
the other lies or distorts truths and flags
the next revolution.

So back to the drawing board. Will it
fly and touch all bases fairly?
Or swim in the ocean of facts and touch bottom,
able to feel for clams and crabs that bite?

Rise up and flee past tides of public
opinion. Trust no waves of reassuring
facts. These are false advertisements.

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