Stealing Two Queries from Proust

Run finished and exhalations
fogging the 43 degree air,
I sat on the island-like green
park bench, next to the undergrad

with torn leather shoes, who said
“I’m doing a philosophy paper
and I need to know “When do you
feel justified in lying?”

I replied “such strange words, laying
and lying, frankly, I get them
confused. One a simple rest
the other falsehood. That’s

the truth. Lying or is it laying
similar yet different. But you
are a stranger and I should sleep.
That’s a lie–so the when is now.”

Which reminded me of the time
my son asked “How would you like to
die”? I answered “asleep, laying in
my bed on satin sheets. No lie.”

Poetry Superhighway Feb.14