He’s mortally afraid
That they’ll
Take away
What he has.
He’s indignant
That they’ll get
Something for free
And he won’t.
He writhes at the
Thought of someone
Undeserving usurping
His position.
He fights vociferously
When it’s even
Remotely suggested
That he share.
A social conscience
As yet undeveloped,
Living only
For himself.
He didn’t realize
What he had said,
He never did,
But she knew, and
It increased the
Already vast space
Between the two,
Each in his or her
Own part of the
Universe, going
About life.
A moment’s pause,
The realization that
It’s okay to talk about it
And explore even the
Most difficult aspects
Of the matter,
That the world will
Not come to an end,
The tides will not stop,
We will both still be alive,
Yet imbued with greater
Knowledge and understanding,
That much closer to
What is to come.
She nonchalantly
Repeats the word:
Thugs.
It reverberates
With visceral
Effectiveness.
Countless minds
Racing to
Ruthless judgment.
The relentless
Tyranny of
Loaded language.
Many years passed and
There arose the dismaying
Realization that they
Had never reflected on
Anything, reconsidered
Their actions, grown
In any way, understood
The implications of
What they did; if anything,
It had become worse,
Setting the stage for
Chronic stuntedness.
She toiled in obscurity
For many years and
Suddenly became an
Overnight success.
Where before she couldn’t
Even give away her talent,
Now there was not enough
Of it to satisfy the
Clamoring masses hungry
For a piece of her magic.
She remembers all the
Years of struggle,
Laments the countless
Millions who haven’t yet
Been discovered,
Understands the fleeting
Nature of fame,
The role of chance,
The risk of forgetting
What really matters.
Meeting at a business mixer,
Exchanging half smiles,
Striking up a conversation
About a mutually shared
Interest, profession.
After only a few sentences,
The insecurity kicks in,
Denigrating what the other does
To make oneself feel better,
More important.
Cycle of pathetic competition,
Broken people stepping on
Each others’ heads to
Continue avoiding
Looking inward.
You’ll find it
At the top of the hill,
In that house no one
Lives in anymore,
Where that one family
Nobody talks about
Endured all those
Unmentionable things,
Collective loss of
Memory, the weight of
What we actually are.
They are entrusted
With the responsibility
Of governing, moving
The country forward.
They commence their
Solemn duty with the
Only thing that makes
Any sense to them:
Steeply boosting funding for
Waging war and drastically
Cutting programs that
Help the poor.
