the lost man chronicles
the daily chronicle

the vain entertainer
(simply amusing or murder, she wrote)

yesterday, a friend wrote as to why i’m read—
“I read you to be entertained,”
she explained, without a hint of irony.

and so, i was enlightened, once again.

for in my vain venture to be me
i have long pined futilely for my words
to uplift and enlighten, and not—
simply serve to amuse.

and so, for a moment, i am confused,
for i long to be more than just for fun—
i want, with much mien, to be The One
who marvels and has others wonder,
claps thunder that makes them think;
endowing, encouraging, questioning,
so that together we might sink

below the surface

and there—make invigorating, inspiring underwater love,
a copulation of mind and spirit together,
a union to rise above,
and supercede all other base desire.

and by the serene wake of this fulfilling fire,
to float upon the pyre of staid reasoning,
irrationally seasoning sensibilities
with fiery musings and piquing thoughts
which alongside frivolous amusement and folly
ought to make what i write as much a muse,
as it is utterly and ultimately—simply amusing.

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