Doctrine

Doctrine

by Sam Sax

the time for nuance is over

i argue over breakfast

explaining how it’s oft used

to confuse descent—knife

through my poached egg.

politicized work made all yolky,

easy to consume & forget.

i dab with the toasted bread

agitation & propaganda i rant

is the only just path for artists

gesturing with my utensils

heavenward. i’ve said a lot

of things which in retrospect

would’ve been better

had i kept my mouth shut.

i once said something to a friend

i wont repeat here

& now she’s no longer my friend.

ill never forget what her eyes did

as i finished speaking

stones in a bucket.

words have consequences

they’re both material & reveal

the spirit that speaks them.

what i meant over breakfast

is the time’s too urgent for work

that doesn’t have blood in it.

what i meant is insurgency

is our birthright, that nuance

comes from the french meaning

to shade—why another painting

of a lake when there’s so much

rage boiling outside the canvas?

what does it mean i don’t mean

what i say when i say it? i don’t know

what i mean. silence is golden

& gold’s the standard measurement

for capital. the golden rule is do

unto others as you would have them

do unto you. but what when they do

you ugly first as they always

seem to? i finish my coffee &

it’s political whether i want it

to be or not.