All the Best Deceptions

[dialectical]

What would your mother say, you ask

as I stand shivering

no coat in the midwest December.

"I'm not surprised." I tell you.

You smirk but I know

there's no lie in my reply.

Practicality eludes me,

waiting for crisis before I comply;

I have a penchant for lying

to myself but I'm deceiving

no one.

All the best deceptions and

akratic inertia

will do nothing to warm these bones.

But I'll try, anyhow.