Poem Hunter
GH (5 3 38 / leipzig)


Between layers everybody lies,
shading truth to be pragmatic but
the One who is Eternal has His spies,
and finds out well before the final cut
that He, Divine Director, has to make,
how they have traipsed away from truth like truants.
What we describe as error or mistake
cannot be neutered with a lawyer’s nuance,
and every story, layered as a cake,
which we have told embellishing each fact,
contains the evidence we can’t forsake,
when forced to eat the words we can’t redact.

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