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Image for the poem The Disevolving of one's Personal Evolution

The Disevolving of one's Personal Evolution

 

not           taking "it" for granted,
       (thought         granted
                                                   it
                                                may             well be ),
my eye       is amazed         to see           how
far
             from           The mainstream,   or the mainstream's
                                                     mainstem.      my thinking has,
                                                                               (shall we say),
                                                                               dis- evolved
                                  Certainly
                                                   Main Street
                                                                    may as well be in
                                   Some other Uni'verse,
                              ( nothing uni'versal need be implied).


Other people, as it were. ( or, more accurately, as were they )
                         seem
                             so much more blessedly "other"              than ever
                                                                                                       before.
                                                                                              ( just
i'magine that )
                                                                                              (that is, if you dare )
                                 (    I riding some pariah's donkey   )

Nothing   ever was what Anything like it   seemed to be, so why, so why,
                                                                                                                     so why
                                                                                        should eye be surprised ?

Has my Terminal Uniqueness not ran it's rancorous course?
Has my Terminal Uniqueness indeed become a malignancy ?
How's about dear Leah Marie's dea[b]th death death as a factor?
How's about dear Leah Marie's death death.......?
How's about dear Leah Marie's [b]death                   ?
How's about dear Leah Marie                                      ?


All these things, (and more!) appear to have defined My Disevolution, even if
on a wholly illusory scale, which can easily believed into a Delusion of Grand
                                                                                                                    Proportion.

What else?      What more?      to be used to perfect      this insistent demise?

                                                                F I N I


@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2019dankozak'sCircus-of-Poom, +(bad) photo'ography
dkzksaxxas_DanielX
Written by dkzksaxxas_DanielX (DadaDoggyDannyKozakSaxfn)
Published
Author's Note
"If I ever leave my house without my walking stick,
it would be something I could never explain !
It's the thing that makes me click on Lover's Lane,
 And I'd be naught if I were caught...
"If I ever leave my house without my walking stick,
it would be something I could never explain !
It's the thing that makes me click on Lover's Lane,
 And I'd be naught if I were caught without my cane."
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