Monday, September 02, 2013

V. 2, #157: September 2, 2013

Just think how awful everything would be
if all I ever told you was the truth!
How different would your image be of me?
Right now you think I'm sweet--at times uncouth,

but mostly good. How could I disabuse
your unsuspecting mind of such kind thoughts?
I'd sooner crush a butterfly than lose
your ignorance of all these different Scotts:

The one who ponders murdering the guy
who cut him off in traffic; one whose lust's
insatiable and weird; the one who'll cry
if he hears one more Coldplay song. What trusts

could well survive such truth? But never fear:
I love, therefore I lie to you, my dear.

2 comments:

David Watson said...

Would this poem stand as a support of the notion of a "fall" in your sonnet from August 30th? As a refutation of a "basic benevolence" of man and an affirmation of the final couplet in that poem, #154 (which by the way I thought was one of the more terrific poems I've read recently)?

Scott said...

Hi David--thanks for your comments, and for reading! Sometimes certain things seem to stick in my mind and inform a series of sonnets, so I may have been subconsciously thinking about the "fallen" state of our race, with a (hopefully) humorous slant. Of course I'm a bit of a cynic--I find it hard to believe that many relationships could survive absolute, *complete* truth.

Thanks also for your very kind words about #154. I'm glad you took the time to read, and even more glad you thought it worth the time.

Best wishes,
S