So William Is Not Dying Poem by RIC BASTASA

i have long told
you, a poem is
detached from
the poet

the stranger
talking to you
might have
been
talking about
another
stranger too

be detached
like
a mirror
and yet
so immersed
in the
image of your
own face

the realities
we write
are lies
behind
the realities
of others

william
has just told
you
the reality
of death

and he pretended
it was him
in that coffin
surrounded by
friends, parents
and children
and lovers

could be just
all in his mind

but the truth
has been told
and you
received them

fairly verily