My world is not so grim and stark,
my sea so wrought with foam and rage,
that I must seek my guidance from
the words of seers, self-proclaimed,
who paint the times with bitter strokes
and cry “Woe!” at the fate of man
while solving nothing of themselves,
who see plots behind all locked doors.
For those would dehumanize
just reinforce the status quo;
and just etch their initials
on the shackles we ignore.
It’s epater le bourgeoise?
That game has been long played
by far more clever hands than yours,
against far greater foes.
How simple – just reflect our flaws
and in a cockeyed Fiction, choose
the few that prove your primal cause;
for wolves use both the eye and nose
and courteously will not object
to your loud insult of their style.
They know your rebel stance, like theirs,
hides blood-stained claws and hungry smiles.
No nihilistic view survives
and dies a peaceful death;
it must at last devour itself
to keep its self-respect
and live up to its own reviews.
What’s on your plate tonight?
21 AUG 2003
aimed at Chuck Palahnuik