The Love-song of the United Prostrate

Let us go then, you and I,

Where hate is spread across the mouths and signs of an angry people, sated and sedated, when captured by words of promise and appealing prose captured both by throat and nose.

Both combative and complacent happy to argue the enemy adjacent, and bask in false accomplishments of words dispersed.

Let us go, through certain half-deserted indiscretions, hashtags, and read receipts, the trending drama of false deceits, of countless rights and wrongs, and the one line slogans of infidels.

The soundbites that support an incongruous argument of insidious intent, Do not ask what is it, let us go and make our visit

For while the wicked has their way with us our foes, loyal, if not blind, will cite statements of the asinine.

And in the room, our friends shall come and go. Speaking to only one another, pointing outrage to and fro.

All the while asking, do I dare disturb the universe? In a minute there is time for derision and rescissions, which a public statement can reverse.

And would it have been worth it, after all?

To have written off the matter with a dismissive gesture, down and to the left

To have squeezed good and bad into a simple ball, to roll it towards some overwhelming verdict of condemnation?

If one, settling camera in its cradle can, in 140 characters or less, say: “That is not how I meant it at all, that is not it, at all.”

We have lingered long and quietly in the reservoirs of our greed. We have set the standards high for others while defending our own needs

Like costumed sirens wreathed with the blood of others we bask on rocks in the reflexive glow of charity, filtered through our own vanity.

Tears flowing undetected and untagged as we plead to our innermost selfies, “that is not how I meant it, at all.”

And in the room, our leaders come and go, seeking precedent to quote and follow.

Let us go there, you and I, where the sky meets the sea, and the earth melts into yet another conspiracy, validated in debating the latest clown.

Let us go. Arms spread wide. Embrace the ruling tides, so the sun marks our perfect silhouette with a flattering crown.

Until our innermost voices wake us, and we drown.