So then, wandering round a corner, only to bump into all the mothers
draping autism on their offspring, swaddling them to sweat and panics,
And having to flee a second time,
Because, earlier in the day, the nature of truth and lies in a testament,
A cold moment of pyramids seen, in their three of the law,
Sandy but rocky, from Gizeh, from nowhere but always and
forever,
Having replaced the bowl of hills, now they were the skyline,
And truth they told in their solid mass,
Lies they told in their anciency.
The pyramids seen, by swains on the boating lake with simple ideas
of perpetuation, first doing the impressive to their sweethearts,
Fathers-to-be, if cards are played orderly correct,
Now left slack, agog, capsized on the reef arrived.
The pyramids seen, at the steps of the Capitol, and the capitolmen
rushed out to watch them as children,
Trying to go higher, they clambered with their eyes,
Who was there to warn them not to go too high, tall tales of tears
before bedtime?
The pyramids seen,
When mothers and fathers gladly renounced their being and were glued to
the shape,
Making the shape of bones, and not of rock,
And making more in their own image, Pascal's triangle in four imagined
corners,
The heritage is the back turned, obstinate, rude, featureless,
Unassailable, all living creatures praise the pyramid,
So back then,
The mothers are practising at popes, they appreciate the worship,
Back then, to the fathers who slurp their gin and rum and ignore
their offspring,
Let's have a day of truth and lies, in the ghostly shadow of Egypt's mistake,
Let's have a day of truth and lies, as if the Eurydice matter had gone well,
Back then, to truth and lies, the thing is over.
