A Review
When even the clichés cringe at the clichés
They are forced to co-habit with, who cringe
At the inevitable next step, the slow tread
Moving toward the gallows, when someone
Should have screamed out in anguish, someone
Surely could see how innocent of ideas
It all was, and stopped it before too many
Well-meaning people were arrayed in formation
To make elemental claims to authenticity
Until they are forced to believe the words
They mouth otherwise the vacuity would collapse
Upon itself like a black hole devouring space.
Yet the obvious stayed silent, the parade passed,
The emperor’s tailor danced in delight.
(January 2011)
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