14 May 2020

Told you so


The world does not look to writers
for answers to the big problems
If it did we’d all be living in chaos
We are self-serving and ego driven at the best of times
But some would never admit that
They masquerade and live normal lives and
Write terribly in the process

They work normal jobs
Drive normal cars
And have normal conversations about
The larger problems of the world
With normal people
Most
Of whom, are the cause of said problems
And they are published in some journal
A piece now/then
In some bi-annual magazine

But they have no answers
And nor do I
Not a single one for you on straightening
The twisted wire of the world
Because I don’t truly care about that
Or them
Or you
I remain capable only of caring about my survival and
The survival of those few closest to me

The all-knowing writer is a myth of academic proportions
Drowning in research and statistics
Desperate to prove their worth
To fund more publications
Pored over by a committee and yet
Becoming ash no later than the rest of us

Proliferating mediocrity
They endanger the very souls of those of us who gasp for air
In order to scratch down words that both defend from death
And carry death along with them

As finally we all run out of breath and black ink.