All of this
is a shock
(but not a surprise)
Maybe it’s the mature cop out after youthful cynicism is discarded
To stare gloomily over the railing and nod back at the Devil in pretend understanding
“Oh, I know him, we go way back. The ol’ rascal is only doing our bidding.”
But it seems a bit more than just getting by, of something only one layer deep
This realization of darkness in the world. The “how could they do this?” replaced with “how might we not?”
For that is the same question
that makes sure the parachute is packed, and the life raft ready.
My feet have trodden the broad road to ruin, but turned back in time (I hope).
The devil plans a day of jihad, but he’s clever, too. He walks as a mild man, supplies the vengeance to the hearts of harmless girls, pays interest on the venom of those who don’t speak when they should, opens the door for me when I lace up my boots, going nowhere good.
“But actually, put in a historical context….” he argues, worldly logic rusting the gears of…what’s right.
Those words start to glow cherry red in the gathering dusk
The weak gather like moths to justify anything they’d like to
by it’s lurid light
Ah, how diabolical frameworks are.
In ten thousand years, it won’t matter.
But hold your breath for three minutes, my friend, and answer then.
“No, no, I’m not really okay. My cousin was murdered in Israel” an old friend from the better days told me.
I stared at the blank white screen, unsure of what to say.
“I’m so sorry.”
Maybe I should be.
I’m lazy like Cain all too much, when the Bossman asks for more.
What will I say?
And that’s the question.
***
(A moment of silence today in lieu of a song.)