The The walked into the room
and everyone stopped to look.
He could have been a pimp in primary colors
(something Dylan said in I forget what context)
or he could have been your brother-in-law
fresh from a job interview and
feeling cautiously optimistic about his chances.
Or the The could have been your own alter ego,
your doppelganger, parallel universe mirror image idiot savant.
Anyway the The looked around and surveyed the scene:
people waiting, reading magazines, children
playing with broken toys, a lady knitting something red,
her fingers and the needles loopedy-looping so fast,
so fast, a fish tank embedded in the wall,
only a single fish to be seen,
and that one not looking well — is what the The was thinking.
The receptionist hands him a clipboard and says
take a seat. The piece of paper on the clipboard is blank.
The pen has no ink. The The doesn’t know what to think.
Where was it one first heard the truth?
That’s an interesting question, Wally.
technology to wipe out truth is now available. not everybody can afford it but it’s available.