Irrefutile
by Franck Vanhee
Sorry, you
ghastly man, the woman in the wordshop said, we’re
closed. And how did you get in, she also said,
can you walk through the door, haha.
Through the
door, h-h-h-hah-h-h-h-ha, I reverberated.
Well I’ll
be d’d, a ghostwriter, she said, am I
collective memory, as in famous.
Infamous, I
reverberated. I was waiting in your toilet and I
read this If you h-h-h-have nothing to lose,
you may as well lose it h-h-h-here writing on
the wall thing. It was then that I lost your last
p.
My what, the
woman said.
Oh, there, I
reverberated third time lucky, the p! the p!
Right between your feet.
She gaped down,
as if in a reflection, then said Who are you.
Oh, sorry, we
won’t haven’t met yet, I irrevoked, I
am your epita h-h-h-h
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