The Innocence of Ice
A Stream of Consciousness Poem
Bounty hunters are seldom in search of paper towels
Satire should never be impossible
Everything mundane has been painted with suspicion and terror
When the king is vicious and ignorant and greedy and vulgar
The land grows foul and inhospitable
The guardian of health and sanity is sick and insane
The guardian of security is insecure and confused
The guardian of wealth is full of feckless, fraudulent schemes
The guardian of education is illiterate and fraternizes with people who play wrestlers on television
The most authentic, sincere quality of the second in command is his eye makeup
No couch wants to be alone with him
Ice used to be a means of preventing rot
Ice used to be a precondition for the possibility of laughing sport
Ice used to turn a tepid glass of syrup into a blessed refreshment
Ice used to be clean and cold and coveted by sweltering souls
Ice used to have elegant, transparent geometry
Dangerous ice used to be a description of bad weather
Easily made harmless by a little sand or salt
Ugly and irrational are these, our long days
Altruists are slain and then insulted and defamed by mountebanks
What kind of sadistic, schizoid, suicidal soldier enjoys harming a nurse?
If you cannot be a good host to a desperate stranger
What kind of guest will you be?
No one can tell the difference between reality and television
An apprentice is someone who doesn't know what they are doing
A set is an incubator of hypnotic lies
Cabinets should contain things worth keeping
It takes the antithesis of stable genius to bankrupt multiple casinos
Shouldn't a model be worth emulating?
It takes some perverse prestidigitation to feign opposition
To an elite cabal of sex criminals
Just after you renew your membership therein
To avoid losing track of the text chain that catalogues its crimes
To which you are a regular, braggadocious contributor
Evil is making a hobby of defiling innocence
Hell has the aesthetic sophistication of a golden toilet
Power should only be granted to those who do not crave it
Because the rest of us decide that they deserve it
Given their wisdom, or their courage, or their temperance, or their urgent appetite for justice
If you cannot find a nation on a map, you should not have the means to invade or rule it
If you would rather be named war than defense, you relish murder
Protecting others counts for nothing if you find weapons arousing
Names ought to lose meaning and merit when they decorate dice and coasters
Let us restore the innocence of ice
Let us elect servants, not masters
Let us love organic intelligence
Let us seek a day devoid of crisis
A time when we can stop and think
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About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Comments (3)
Damn! Wow! This is absolutely crisp. Every single line feels like a thunderclap, scathing and spot on. Thank you for writing this. Brilliant critique of our current problems. And as a poem, your word choice and pacing are absolutely top notch. I really think the structure here, especially the offering definitions and contrasts is especially compelling. Great work
This is so well done. Bravo, you beautifully articulated what we’re all thinking and feeling.
Ye, yes, yes! too many perfect lines to highlight without copying it all! as always, youve nailed it, good man!