Arrogance

Turn away from it all —
the television, the race, the war,
the idiocy of leaders, the sweetness
of sex, the blue gloss of the false tongue.

Decide that only you know what to do next.

Take a gun to the walls of the city,
or climb a tower to spot your target with a razor in your teeth.
Staighten your hair and remember your true name,
the one that you were given at birth
by the grandmother you never knew, the one
whispered to you when you were five hours old.

Stare down at the people, the ants and ant-cars, booths
of shopping mothers, arguing merchants, cash tendered
for tender moments, small gifts bought on impulse
to soothe tension among children.

If there’s an instance of death you can feel —
recalling the wake where a body no longer
heated the air around it, the smiles of the unfamiliar
relatives — hold that moment close. Pretend it’s happening
all over again, right now.

Steel yourself. Draw a bead
on the underlife.

Isn’t this enough? The knowledge of
what you think is in your power?
Your urge to kill and drop yourself
after the killing, the desire to fall
all burning and thunderbolt upon the masses —
why? No one will care tomorrow
that you were the angel of justice.
They’ll call you crazy and revile you.
All that down below is what you are, too;
they think of this moment on the tower
from time to time themselves, you know.
Everyone wants to play God. Witness
the television’s frantic screeching, the racial jockeying,
the war begun and ended,
the sex coerced or desired,
the children conceived and abandoned.
Offer a person ten minutes to talk
and they’ll fix the world for you. Offer ten dollars
to a homeless man and watch how both of you
stand a little taller, feel a little better than the other guy.

Nothing you do here makes you better than the other guy.

When you give up the fantasy, toss the gun
over the wall, drop the razor into the AC duct,
and come down, you’re not changed.
They still seem like ants, but so much larger,
and those extra legs you seem to have grown
are just a measure of how strong you think you are.

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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