I
have a nemesis, or perhaps a rival
Climbing
from chair to chair to chair to me!
He
dare not look me in the eye,
His
sustaining soul is like carbon paper,
The
staircase he climbs to see me,
I
would think to be boring: the same old,
Only
repeating, like a broken disk:
Marching
with paranoia, evermore at my heel
With
dry, ailing, if not stormy wit!
He
has stretched months into years!
God
will make a date for him, to explain his
Sheaf
of tapeworms, swarming in his head.
No: 4525 (8-19-2014) © Dennis L. Siluk, dr.h.c.
