("The Matador" is a painting by Olan Smith, 2018, acrylic on canvas.)

The Editor of Truth

©09-04-2021, Olan L. Smith

The longer he waits, the hastier is the tic

Of the clock, the chime is a plastered

Clatter in his ears, a migraine to detonate.

Do you fathom? The clock is unwound,

The lifeline spent, a redo is scheduled.

However, the fissures between worlds are

Revealed, published―yet no one reads, they

Walk into oblivion, slipping through the cracks,

Into a waning mist. He is the Eraser,

Who cares for nobody. People neither recall

Or remember, people emerge from crevices,

Some are replaced with evil's apprentice.

The editor of reality is a dangerous creature.

The thread is unwound, and the script revised. 

(A.N. This is a 14 line free verse poem divided into 3 quatrains with two monostich lines; the 5th and 14th.)