Is the unutterable truly able
to be spoken, will your recoil into a labyrinth of inarticularity
seasoning the conversation with spicy banalities
--comfort lying in your wallet--
ah, but will the waves of capital, whirling and unrelentingly oppressive
wash you, leave on the rocks of ineffability
which you launch into carousing speeches about your insuperability
or instead, pretend to be an island
in a sea of ambivalence, exhuming the corpses of dead Marxists
will the strands of your much vaunted invincibility be dumped ashore
like seaweed and twigs, after a storm.
Perhaps you will inveigle us with stories of heroics and Herculean feats
dazzle us with triumph over adversities
or peddle your political indomitability like a balloon seller on the pie
ah yes, the common weal of humanity embraces you smugly
and by cynicism, metaphysical bereftness,
there are condemnations of what is Left.
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