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Escape Artist

You offer him a poem

he returns it with his tome

Your language is concise

you can cut his with a knife


Your prose begins to narrow  

as his tongue becomes a harrow

He expounds upon his thinking

while you see his aura shrinking


You cease your conversation

with fear and trepidation

that the space which you leave empty

he’ll fill with words aplenty


You lengthen up your spine

while he continues to opine

When he inhales his next breath

like a man who’s cheating death


You smile and say excuse me

you long ago did lose me.


Bogliasco, Italy October 8, 2017

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