What's New?

I

Beware the equation of novelty and goodness

The bubonic plague had a birthday

Aliteracy, which describes a person who can read but does not

Came into being and proliferates still

Blindness and deafness, paralysis and madness

All joined the party at some point; are they welcome?

II

To the new year, day, or hour, bid a skeptical welcome

Not with giddy anticipation, but an eye for true goodness

To smile and embrace a strange visitor is madness

Should we rejoice on fascism’s birthday?

An army of poisons pours out of time’s still

Be not afraid, but fearless? Perhaps not!

III

Seasoned to perfection, all new dishes are not

Some additions to the soup are not at all welcome:

Tears, microplastic, synthetic hormones—keep those shakers still

Variety is surely important, but it is not a synonym of goodness

Is a gain of function research laboratory the restaurant you will rush to on your birthday?

An insatiable appetite for whatever hasn’t been eaten before is stark madness

IV

Rushing with ebullience into the dark should strike all as clear madness

Being rash is intemperate; a display of bold courage, it is not

Nor is cowardice warranted, but between the two is the guarantor of our next birthday

It is noteworthy that only flat, mindlessly meek mats bid all welcome

Scan the visage of the interloper for marks of one thing: goodness

Until they are read, keep the glad hand still

V

Granted, xenophobia is atavistically obtuse, still…

Be conscious of the capacity of the new mind to harbor madness

Charming as the smile of the intruder may be, she may not be the vanguard of goodness

She may have your best interests at heart; she may not

You had better find out which, before you offer her a warm welcome

It would be a shame to make a funeral of a birthday

VI

It is ours to name, this occasion: this next moment could well be the birthday

Of sweet marvels; but odds are, it will leave some hearts still

Prudence and courage must combine—entropy merits no welcome

Nor does it need one: it is coming, and all we can do is fend off madness

For a minute, an hour, a day or a year—that it will arrive, doubt not

With care, fragile and fleeting though it may be, we must shield the ember of goodness

VII

For from it, a blaze might arise: be warm and bright enough, beacon of goodness!

On the inky periphery, the eyes of monsters reflect your glow; for now, in our midst they are not

Breathe and gird loins; we are safe--but in the egg of what’s new stirs madness