To be honest, I haven’t been deprived of anything.
All my life I’ve been fed, loved, understood excessively,
So much so it’s almost like a huge, wide-eyed imaginings
Of a mouse nestled in the bosom of a cat so friendly.
No, no, I haven’t denied them of my generosity,
My friends, my neighbors, my family, yes, everybody,
Who’ve shown and taught me the meaning of mercy and happy,
To smile even if life’s too far out of the ordinary,
To see beauty in and savor rotten, succulent truths,
To see humor, logic, richness, and wholeness in half-truths.
Before me’s a sumptuous platter of victuals and magic
Awaiting my devouring, but I need nothing of it.
I’m completely satisfied, and of course I’m a man of lies.
Ravenous I am so, really, and that’s the biggest of whys.



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