Fake ID

[Weeded]

Fake ID

The inlier rocks of the thrust faults in Montana

I identify myself to you

I put up confusing isotypes which make it seem like I am dreaming of the question mark In a poem with such strong geology references 'isotype' kinda sticks out to me.

When in actuality I'm giving out information pamphlets regarding the inurned ashes of historic hotels Inurned- now there's a word you don't hear everyday. I'm enjoying the assonance though.

Inquiries answered daily about the Plaza in New York or the Tremont House of Boston

My indignant answers go unquestioned for ages

Like ignimbrite deposits from once explosive magmatic gasses

They end up itemized like a to do list

I call it my great imbroglio

Imbroglio.. Great word
Distraction unnerves my identity

The poem is straightforward and the word choice is decent. I'm having a hard time figuring out the setting, as well as the plot resolution. From what I gather this is about a narrator who dreams of volcanoes and mountains but is bogged down by the toils of a 9-5. Close?