ARTICULATING THE POPULAR RAGE

With regards to writing social commentary
– it is the plainest form of critique.

To begin,
simply observe societal ineptitude
our lack
a pebble’s toss
from the inarticulate crawl of a snail.
The social writer then ridicules the obvious
made more so
by the end of his critique.

Half his readership
mundane,
mind spoiled on rotten tripe
sound bytes without soliloquy
engage only the ‘pleasurable’ aspects.
Beyond this intellectually misshapen brood
exists the second half…
Yet only one third remaining
embrace his word
in its fullest understanding.

The first third
dispassionate
with all the lasting sensitivity,
compassion and depth
otherwise imbued on a ‘nice’ cream soda
or rum Collins.
The final third,
isolated intellectuals
openly hostile to truths
contradictory to their own
judge grossly inferior
his motives,
then easily discarded:
not, because the word is disheartening,
ineffectual or misguided,
but on its strengths
clarity, depth, confidence and detail
Professional jealousy,
sadly,
reigns supreme.

The exercise of social critique
is therefore most maddening for the writer
who gives both body and soul,
left humiliated,
drained and perplexed,
by the incomprehensible -
matriarchy of societal inefficiency
supremely lauded.
Stamped loudly.

Mattering not,
in levels of odious sarcasm,
cleverness,
or profound convalescences
even oracular proficiencies…
What is paramount
is no joyous exaltation for the reader.
Profound cynicism –
the order of the day.

@Nick Zegarac 2006 (all rights reserved).

AUTUMN SOLITUDE

You must remember September,
Its rustic cool unexpected frosts,
showering the scarlet canopies
in gaunt and narrow
piles of galloping leaves.
Funnel winds twist and Asian mists lay
the crunch, crunch crackle
crispness of a steely dawn mounting.
Taunt sunbursts escape
through gray flannel clouds, then slip
Preparing for aged winter’s
crystalline whip.

@Nick Zegarac 2006 (all rights reserved).