No words exchanged
Where normally there
Would be many.
An empty space,
A house razed,
Missing.
This is the same
Place where they
Laughed together.
He lost count of
How many times
He had to
Bite his tongue,
Change his
Narrative in order
To not elicit
Prickly reactions,
Reflexive retorts from
A frightened squid
Spewing ink,
Clouding the waters
Of understanding,
Face an impassable
Wall built to keep the
Barbarians out,
Endure a superficial
Relationship built
On strict hierarchy,
Avoid being himself.
The entire
History of
Civilization:
Damaged
People
Battling to
Hang onto power
At the expense
Of others,
Regardless of
The consequences.
A few enlightened
Souls struggling
To show there
Is another way.
A promise of a gift
Made in confidence.
She’s never told anyone
About it and has
Never seen it
Become reality.
Fading away into
Memory,
Immaterial,
A gesture lost to time,
Obscured by
Secrecy.
Once in a while
She wonders
What it all meant
And whether it
Ever even
Existed.
Successive
Waves
Have all
Encountered
The same
Alarmed cries
About how
The beach
Will never
Be the same.
Recoiling from the force of
His tirade, so many years
Of self-hatred generated
By the absence of love,
Sublimation of self,
An agonized lashing out
At the wrong people
Instead of the ones who
Really hurt him.
I remember the day I came to you with
Gift in hand, but it wasn’t good enough,
Didn’t compliment what you already found
Familiar. I remember the look on your face
When I had the temerity to suggest that
The gift was something quite valuable and
Precious. No acts of naive courtesy permitted,
No souvenir from unvisited lands featuring
Swaying palm trees and beaming bathers.
I remember how you turned away.
An unspoken code
Keeps them all
In line, sporting
The same clothes —
Physical appearance —
Mores —
Social rules
That keep them
Stuck in a delusion
Of normalcy based
On fearful assumptions
About almost everything.
In times of insecurity,
They coalesce into agitated
Swarms, screaming for relief,
Yearning for a big daddy to
Come along and make
Everything all right again.
As is always the case,
Someone or many someones
See the glow of opportunity
And swoop in making empty
Promises that soothe the
Raging fever of uncertainty.
Once the horde has been
Seduced, their masters rub
Their hands together with
Glee and prepare for the
Upcoming bacchanal of
Looting and pillaging.
