The unexamined life might

not be worth all that much,

but what if you get trapped

in the purgatory of memory,

no moratorium on melancholy?

 

That's where rumination reigns

supreme, and the brain succumbs 

to bribery, falling prey

to fake advertising

of a score-settling splash,

an ersatz denouement. 

 

So commences the dissection

of thoughts, utterances, deeds,

woven into deranged rhapsodies

of coulda woulda shoulda,

baleful enough to make

better angels jump ship,

begging to flee this

counterfactual apogee...