Viscous Prelude
by Odin Roark

As the first 100 days play out,
pundits gather like predatory preachers
atop their make-believe pulpit,
while the ant hill of mankind
awaits the word or impulse.

One could argue these are the final days of a disaster,
perhaps only a few broadcasts away,
or a news or tweet anecdote of fantasy going viral.

Such a body of people wade through the sludge and mire of today
without the preceding eight years of hope and yes, mistakes.
at least the intent was to go in the right direction.
Preserving dignity and compassion,
leaving us with a decision to join today’s gargantuan effort
to upset the viscosity of progress flowing freely,
or continue to rely on the ill-informed and emotionally lacking
or criticize the man assuming the watch,
as his moral compass stands fixed on what he believes,
or what he wants us to believe he believes of his savior importance.

Neither the winds of doubt
nor the fire of “yes, sir” of oligarchy’s intent
must disturb humanity’s resolve.

So much to fear,
so little time to hope.

Yet…

Truth eventually always outweighs
“alternate facts.”

Philosophy weeps with today’s viscosity.