I will recite
my absurdist life,
and do so without coercion
save my need to tell it.
Imagine a new wave film
in French, perhaps,
directed by Dali and you
may approach my truth.
If this is beyond you, I
don’t care, do you?
In the end it is you
the listener who writes
my story, my life,
and I am merely
the pen and paper,
the prompt, so please
help yourself, for I
can’t wait to learn
about myself, will I be
Pygmalion or merely
a painted man, a still life
held together by oils, canvas
and your imagination?
Please do hurry though
for things are getting less
complicated and I feel
I am being dragged
offstage in what should be
a theater of the absurd.

First Published in the engine(idling, Issue 2, 2024
https://www.engineidling.net/issue-2/louis-faber-memo