Comment: Life is our only revenge

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Life is our only revenge

The Gnome of Death presides, it's true.
We watch from a corner, overinformed and underknowleged,
while our generals hump the planet
and our priests bless them on their way
(call it the way of the cross),
while lizard kings do a death-grip waltz
on the bones of the same dance done before
and the tribal legions raise their banners
one against the other,
while the garbage and the bones collect waist-deep
around the men who proclaim each absurd war holy.

And informed sources said today
that God is on our side.
Although the Lord was not around to comment,
Death had this to say:
"Kiss my rumpled ass and sing 'Power!'
There are no fair fights
and only I can save you from love gone wrong."
(It is stylish to despair).

Still, imagination holds out
for what isn't, and never was,
but might, some say, come to be.
It's a fool's vision perhaps,
but they have found it in caves, on ruined walls,
and in the notebooks of young dead poets.
Dumb dreams
of the artist depicting a planet in love with itself,
where the Gnome is silly for a time.
Where men can tweak his beard
and dare to be naked and vulnerable,
loving and inefficient,
and without the borrowed power of Death over one another.

It's true the Gnome has his way over us in the end;
the game isn't fair, it just is.
Still, there's no reason to serve the dark bastard,
to run his errands for him,
to extend a soulless kingdom while we have the light.
For if death is his threat,
life is our only revenge.
Sing: "Kiss your own dead ass and be damned, Death.
There are no real fights among men,
and no one needs saving from love."

-- "The Forces of Death and the Forces of Life" by Charles Bragg

Recommended reading: The Most Dangerous Superstition,