Fear of Fraud
Fear that I’ll be found out,
That all my words will be found
To have been pulled from
The pool of common language,
Which of course they have been.
Nothing original. Tracings
From a language light table.
Fear that what I’ve been given
I’ll be asked to give back,
Only to find I no longer have it,
Like a library book borrowed
Years ago, every day the fine
Growing more unpayable.
Debt forever, debt beyond death.
Evicted from the studio of the grave
(It was rent, not rent-controlled).
Forced to wander, to beg
For mercy, but no one can
Help me. I was never registered
To drive, to fight, to vote.
How secure is my sociability?
How sociable my security?
‘Say your name for me again,
Would you?’ ‘Our records show…
Don’t show…’ ‘Let’s try this one
Last time, shall we?’