Rough Epiphany, huh?
Insight’s not always that great a deal
I am supposed to be this writer, this facile, glib, satirical preacher.
And ever since January 6, when fools rushed in where angels have feared to tread for quite some time — I’m talking about a mob of people who thought they could storm the capitol on January 6 and somehow, what, erase the election Trump lost from the calendar and hope no one would notice — I don’t know what in the world to say about it.
Except it was stupid and horrifying and I’m disrupted and can’t think of anything clever to write on the subject that other people haven’t said better. Or more spiritually. Or with more savvy.
Except this: it’s another feature of the apocalypse.
It was meant to show us something new about ourselves.
So all I could do is write a poem about what I saw.
That’s the main thing we have to do, I think:
Just say what we see.
