Fling

This playing around with words
                is a reckless fling,
A lustful binge
        and a compulsive urge;

This is my midlife crisis on the verge
Of discovery,
        my soul’s rebalancing;

This is my return to youth, remembering
Whatever whirling memories regurge
Out of the pool,
        however they emerge;

This is my search for truth, if anything
Is true, if a ring of truth can ever rise
Out of the fog
        of this pretentious surge;

These are my alibis when truths diverge
And leave me looking
        foolish in your eyes;

This is my fleeting chance to apologize
For being otherwise
        with my reckless fling.