X

X.

Is beauty the truth?

He asked
the wise
Muse
As she tied his
silver noose
Backwards she read
the Sunday news

The secret is
neither here
nor there
But everywhere

In locks of
golden hair
The taste of
sea air
Under the
gamblers chair

For I had written
the spell
Misread and
forgotten
The people have
lost it
they cast
themselves to
Hell