Goin' Fission

By Cliff Lake

 

Goin' Fission

 

The chest is sorely bruised:

A constant,

If erratic thumping,

Renders soft flesh tenderized,

While the stone beneath feels nothing,

But the fear of consequence.

 

The mouth is open,

The mouth is always open.

It is the loudest in the room.

It is always the loudest in the room.

Hear it praise itself!

Someone has to…

 

The hands are mismatched:

One is blotchy purple,

And when it isn’t,

It is Covergirl pink.

Both reach for the money,

All the money.

 

The eyes are blinded by gaudy paint,

They fail to see the damage it wreaks.

They do not read figures they do not like.

They see enemies in every corner.

They do not see ramifications.

They only see dollar signs.

 

The ears do not register.

They hear no entreaties,

They heed no advice.

They are full of what the mouth has said,

They listen that only,

And are deaf to anyone without deep pockets.

 

The brain is sodden.

It’s been soaking in its own lies

For far too long,

And real information

Can no longer get in,

And the crazy lies whirl ever faster.

 

The ego is starved.

The ego is always starved.

It makes threats when it isn’t coddled.

It soils the pants when it is.

It is one of the biggest on the planet,

It lives in fear of being found out that it is empty.

 

The body is failing.

It teeters and sways.

The mouth dribbles nonsense,

The hands reach for what they shouldn’t have,

The brain fails to deliver reason,

The heart fails to deliver on promises.

 

The person is broken.

It breaks what it can in return.

It doesn’t think enough people

Are paying attention.

It thinks its threats and breakage prove something.

It’s right about that much.

 

The thing it has become grows more desperate.

The ears hear bad news.

The eyes see writing on the wall.

The ego shakes tiny fists,

And the mouth makes the announcement:

“We’re going fission!”

 

And all the worms around it applaud…

 

Cliff Lake 10/30/2025

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2025

Location: Washington, DC, USA

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