An olfactory sense of putrefaction
arises when factotums manufacture
deeds of factious factions, feats designed
in the rarefaction of the exosphere
where the only satisfaction is petrifaction,
might is right, and facts
are only what you make them.
Translation: Lies stink
Fact: 1530s, “action, anything done,” especially “evil deed,” from Latin factum “an event, occurrence, deed, achievement…”
I started writing with the thought of manipulation of the truth by those in power, and then I learned about the Peralta stones, said to be a map to the Lost Dutchman mine (unless, of course, they’re fake). Like a dog sniffing in the park, I’m off on a new trail to treasure and have completely lost interest in my previous metaphor.