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Stefan Specian

Caught somewhere in the
cognitive dissonance
of cynicism and romanticism—
the lovechild of Mencken and Shelley

Of all the phony idiots
I despise you the least

He sneers at flowery exaltations
of beauty, chortles bitterly at the
melodramatic, star-crossed lovers

Let’s curl up close and condescend—
your head soft upon my chest

In his journal pages of contemplative
diatribes, is he a slave to his hypocrisy
as much as they?

I met you over coffee,
discussing the farcical dilemmas
of politics

Daydreams of semi-isolation, small
urban apartments overlooking crowded
plazas, bustling streets—
ideal for people watching

We fucked, knowing in that moment
we were nothing but animals,
liberated through acceptance

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