The Last Word

The Last Word

Lights illuminate this courtroom scene

and I am standing in the central artery,

translucent and immaterial to your reckless steps

as they walk straight through me.

But under oath the words will fail

to accept the lies you hope to spin from your lips;

those spoken but then denied

will testify to the tongue that shaped them

and the mind that orchestrated their sounds to escape

on the exhaled breath,

till all the jury hears is the jumbled letters you have left,

stubbornly scrambled like your sense of morality,

the judge orders a straitjacket to curb your corroding mentality.

And I can feel my mouth running back to me.