a wise tale

a wise tale,
she said, “watch out,”
he said, “what is this mess you’re burning in?
I feel the heat on my face
and I’m repulsed by its stench
and yet you still throw the gasoline
like fairy food ( apple blossoms )
on your feet.”

but it wouldn’t be that way
it wouldn’t be so quick to engulf our emotional ties
this bedrock has been laid since ice ages
since mammoths were tracked by peoples of long ago
it can’t go up in flames
the way a political career can sparkle into the night,
a burned out supernova – shouldn’t that be an oxymoron?

no, not the solution,
he said, “disguise me,”
she said, “in what? corruption?
I don’t know such a concept
while resolution with the general public may be futile
at least I’ll have stood my ground
( like those last seven members of the marxist-leninist party
staked in their ideology on the border between insanity and greatness. )”

okay, it seems there’s nothing
what more can we ask for?
we’re lost here.
we’re comforted by the quiet.
the ease which that ignorance bestows upon us
what satisfaction we get from the stirring of our emotions
only so franticly that they are only partially dissolved

a wise tale, indeed.
that one where choices rang out and the choice was made
to stay home. weep. embrace that ignorant solitude.
conform. hide. moulded into that chesterfield groove.
why change? why bother? it’s only an exertion I don’t have.