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“point me to the man—I’ll find a crime.”
No evidence of a crime is evidence of a cover up of a crime.
Since you never said you hated me, this proves you hated me the whole time.
Since I suspected you of hating me, even as we kissed,
Now that you have reason to hate me, I must examine evidence I may have missed.
The poet cannot hear the deep state. Unofficially, official innocence is drowned.
Them have a mind which can read a mind to see where your betrayal is found.
You were guilty, even in the beginning, of hatred towards me,
I understand your hate, I do understand it—despite your love—retroactively.
And of course I suspect you, now, of even more crimes.
Love? Love? No. These are doubtful, suspicious times.
You don’t need a final image. Justice? I’ll show you how.
I’ve got her on the phone. Get out of my office. Now.
