Angry men hear little more than one another,
Barking dogs, out-shouting. I-am-bigger-than-you
Cats puffed up. Porcupines with quills at attention.
“Don’t come for me, I have a hornet sting.”
Fear makes them hard of hearing, narrows their field of vision,
Governs them to bluster into
Hatred. Us and them. Familiar and foe.
I am not an angry man, I am
Justified, my perspective comes from
Knowing truths they cannot see,
Myopic as they are.
Not like me.
Pass the baton then, that smooth and simple stick,
Quick to grasp, easy to run away with,
Relaying round and round the track,
Sure footed in flight from all and any
Threat.
Understanding only the win and lose of it.
What about the race? The together of it?
Xenophilic joy of it?
You and I, not me or you of it.
Zeitgeists are defined as much by what is missing as what is on display.
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