All of This, of Course, Is Stolen Poetry

Wrote the autofictional
Medical professional
Turned novelist. Aha! So,

Now it’s poetry stolen
Back. Is poetry transfused
Some forty pages into

A hunk of prose narrative
Still poetry? Is a tale
Stripped down by experiments

With the game of Telephone
In a psychologist’s lab
A ghost story anymore?

It’s a digestive system,
Isn’t it, this thing, culture,
The collective mind, the myth?

At some point forbidden fruit
Becomes an apple, becomes
The innocent who ate it.