An absurd epistle

The word of man is antique,
of woman perhaps more enduring.
There are no morals save the ethical:
every man is a perjurer who owns
another’s word, or claims infanthood
in dotage: for who are multitudinous we
but dead things who don’t know it,
or savages clothed in weeds dried and spun?

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~ by Jeremy on June 5, 2013.

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