
Now
I’m forty-four
it’s
time to consider:
do
I know what’s true?
Is
everything really as I figure?
Do
I find out from the horse’s mouth,
from
experience my own?
Or
do I fashion truth to suit myself,
self-referential
only,
my
omniscience assumed,
I
never need ask another?
Do
I face my fears
and
learn the truth,
though
I’d rather not?
Or
I am I fictionist,
content
with my own version,
my
own surety,
no
peer-review,
no
transparency,
accountable
to none?
©
Palitja Moore, image and text, 2017
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