Every
word is a zealot,
a
vehement summation,
a linear
contextual distortion,
an
addiction's precision,
definite
finiteness in mind-gem settings.
Each
word is
the
single mindedness
of an
intrusive handout,
static
and overbearing
like a
forced attendance slide show,
up close
and frontal
as the
elevator door of meaning opens
revealing
a light house spotlight
as an
outcry of exactitude's utterances
into the
crevices of understanding.
The
portrayal of comprehension's vigilantes
are as
good guys,
solidifying
a contrivance
as a
tryst of meaning as cognition.
This is
almost convincing
towards
recognition's habit
of
attentive dedication,
aligned
towards pseudo agreement.
This, a
contemporary
of
superficial adversarial cogency,
composed
of guardedness
and
knowing's contention.
It’s
always with that ‘where's-Waldo’ view.
It is a
kind of acne
on the
face of a smiling God.
Every
word a zealot.
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