Untitled. Poem by Pedro Tejada

I am the greatest anomaly of my generation,
nimbly rummaging through the annals of my wit
with a current of charm running through my teeth,
inspiring all to transcend their surroundings
with the utmost sophistication and pathos.

Three seconds pass, and this identity scurries
quicker than a cheating lover in a Bessie Smith tune,
and I am once again just another
sheet within the reams of paper thin souls,
giving any prick the role of impaler.

They shall write this on my tombstone.
Magic market epitaph sliding down damp cardboard
as the rain makes wooden chips from my bones,
the last time I lie here
with eyelids unlocked.