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Operator: 911, What's Your Emergency?


(911, what's your emergency?)

For this flight is there enough food to nourish the dark and horrid famine? Plenty water to ease across the razor’s barren edge? Sufficient breath to coax this; a collusion deep within? Is there ample shelter from this; a deceitful tomb?

(911, what's your emergency?)

Truth. Is there none?

(Truth?)

Who needs the truth? Lies are more valuable, made to easily pass through the takeoff's devising eyes. It’s the clever packing of truth and lies into a single carry-on that is the trick.

(Lies?)

Yes! It won’t turn the plane’s shadow into flame.

(Flame?)

Yes! It won’t cut the neck of slipshod freedom.

(Freedom?)

Yes! It won’t bring massive terror to the shores.

(Terror? Freedom? Flame?)

Yes! Lies! Lies; packed together as one, more easily sound round, edging near enough to truth.

(Click...)

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

(911, what's your emergency?)

Traffic!

(I hear ya! So are you trying to get off the interstate, sir?)

Traffic!

(Whoo! You got it bad, huh? You from Seattle by any chance?)

No!

(You sounded familiar's all. Is there anything else I can do for you today?)

Traffic!

(Click...)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

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