Still Battling

Still battling vestiges of aggrieved memory - with no 

reason to be piqued it says, dust settled an age ago 

and we moved on to where the real reason became 

indefensibly clear; you’d had too many wins to be in 

the same league - so hey, quit grousing about that - 

claiming you’re a battler doesn’t really equate to the 

actual arena we were engaged in, all that posturing 

melodramatically suggests it was a theatrical stage 

But it wasn’t the real me being judged by a biassed 

& clearly disaffected audience - who hadn’t paid for 

the watching privilege anyway; they had ‘absented’ 

themselves in a search for truth without the crunch 

of being relevant to it, deeming in their malcontent 

shadows all of these motes were their own ideas 

I am not too crazy nor timid to guess where those 

ideas originated first place; look who was making 

statements & dancing the dance of entertainment, 

a mite too innovatively - & look who was sneering, 

bodaciously contemporaneous within their coterie 

of he’s not one of us, is he, usury condemnation 

© 26 February 2015, I. D. Carswell