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One Shoe is On, My Truth of Instanity

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*Had to make a major change update to 'guy'. My original in word had it. Never a physical audio voice. only a strong inter dialogue of thought. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One Shoe On

One shoe is on, the other is gone.
Let’s put this majestic jester hat on—
once upon a time,
a black swan.

2018 into 2019,
my inner voice whispered:


There will be a toilet paper apocalypse.
Get your M95 mask.
A rhyme from the land of Wuhan,
a lab leak—
stay six feet apart.

The joke and the joker will laugh.

Thirty-two, maybe thirty-four felonies
for Trump, from the Big Apple.
Israel attacked by Hamas on the seventh of October.
A kidnapping—someone named Nora—
a cheap motorcycle,
and Al Jazeera knows.
I'm no doctor
Three Kings’ Day, desecrated by rioters.
“Ashley, go home.”

A vision of Corey, a firefighter,
falling during national turmoil.
And the voice says:

“The pen is mightier than the sword.
Turn your head and cough.
So, Fight, fight, fight—
That is my Trump card.”

A quake, seven points,
On or near the seventh day of the seventh month
Near ridgecrest California.
The fall of Afghanistan.
Thirteen U.S. dead.
A special forces 'guy'—
Gone.

Roe v. Wade overturned.
States' rights.
We, the people,
Will be held accountable.

Go home, Emily Willis.
Get out of ****.
If I needed help,
I’ll go to St. George,
Not California.

And a few other Ideas 
But whatever I'm not Tiresias
Nor  a revelator
Or like a prophetess
Just someone who's missing a shoe.

I am a sinner.
Call me the freak.
I don’t care.

I should have copyrighted it.
Said:

Jesus is the Christ,
Joseph Smith is a prophet.

I lost my faith.
Found it again.
So much déjà vu
I thought I’d gone insane.

Anon in the comments calls me a con.
I don’t care.

You might say i have a demon
I don't care. 

Foregone in the present.
Twice before,
maybe.

Once, in 2001–2002.
And maybe—
If the high school memory is real—
1996.
A Cold War relic computer,
an Army officer from the West,
and my warning:

“Tolkien’s Two Towers.
Call 911.”

I don’t know if it was real.
Maybe crazy.
Most likely.
I don’t care.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 8/14/2025 9:15:00 PM
I don't know if I'm impressed or depressed or both. Which ever way I've gone or entered, your poem effectively took me away from where I was before reading it. I've been effectively splintered. Isn't that what good poems do? Poetry hugs ... CayCay
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G. Jay
Date: 8/15/2025 7:45:00 PM
thanks for the poetry hugs.

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