Dead Inside
Dec 6 2023
I read that the difference
between life and death
is complexity.
Inanimate objects
can go in only one direction
— the rock erodes
wood rots
palace crumbles —
while life goes on;
from simple cells
to Einstein's brain
and Michael Jordan's body.
The universe
will eventually end
as a single black hole,
lightless
and at absolute zero;
nothing left
to fall into it.
Distilled down
to something so simple
it becomes immaterial,
the last bit of energy
exhausted.
But complexity is hard
and simple answers feel good.
The demagogues and populists
who offer black-and-white solutions
with no time for nuance
also shed no light
possess no gravitas.
While they may be charismatic
they're as insubstantive
as massive black holes;
which, hard as you look
can't be seen.
Yes, the odd X-ray may escape
as some poor lost soul
crosses its horizon
and is instantly atomized;
but radiation is lethal,
so even skeptics, and men of honour
who resist his allure
still risk becoming
collateral kills.
The simple-minded demagogue
is dead inside,
no matter how well
his rants and raves disguise it.
Whatever life there may have been
was long ago consumed
by ego
greed
vulgarity.
While the enablers
who hope to profit,
and his followers
unwittingly fooled,
all refuse to see
that they, too
will die in darkness with him.
Way too long. Can’t imagine many readers sticking with it. But felt good to write.
The most challenging constraint was not using Trump's name. That would have encouraged me to go on even longer, while sacrificing its wider resonance.
The last stanza: can't they see that everyone and everything Trump touches turns to shit? Impoverished. In jail. Reputation in tatters. The final line: unintentional, but I now notice how it echoes the ominous catchphrase of the Washington Post.
No comments:
Post a Comment