Some of the best things in life
operate at extremes
of beauty and terror
with minimal margins
for bullshit and error,
as do some of the worst.
Exhibit, the first:
love v. war.
A race which can never be won,
only lost,
for our very participation
invites the visitation
of self-devastation,
of endogenous cataclysm.
The indigenous prism
caught modernity's anti-light,
producing a spectrum of neuroticism —
from the Left to the Right,
hues of madness paint the skies
as sense and compassion
are forcibly excised.
This psychic surgery,
this paranormal perjury,
this metaphysical merging
and blurring of the lines
is devoid of consent.
The void of contempt
which threatens to split
those sloppily-sewn stitches
switches lanes without a blinker,
hitches to the brains of critical thinkers
and rots them like a plague.
It doesn't return the shopping cart,
it profits from stolen and copied art.
It mows your lawn without asking
half-past 2:00 A.M.
It litters, kicks cute critters
and cuts roses at the stem
just so those who've stopped to smell
are deprived of the scent of them.
A functional dismemberment of society
is underway by day and night,
a forced sobriety
from the soaring highs of kindness,
community, and doing what's right.
This fight will be fought to the last
once the dice are carelessly cast,
so in your choice, I bid you, delay.
The only way to win
is not in battle, but in walking away.
About the Creator
Jacob Sherman
The desire to read, and perhaps to write, should be cultivated and nurtured with care throughout every stage of life. For my part I will inject what strangeness and truth that I can into our written history. Expect no constants but honesty.
Comments (2)
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Your opening lines set the tone for one of your best pieces yet - well done!