"intellectual minefield of suburban misanthropy" by John Reinhart, Frequent Contributor

intellectual minefield of suburban misanthropy

John Reinhart

Diogenes by Jean-Leon Gerome (1860)

unhand the children of our age:

monkeys throwing darts from the boardroom

bastard thoughts manufactured with expiration 

dates lack the instinct to spark a single candle

the world turns to flashlights powered by untruth

as percentages and mechanical appetites devour

what is left of Keats, Mozart, Chagal, ducks 

in a row where feathers no longer outweigh the heart

overtime production of hope while the living

zombies spread wrinkle cream on market reports

consumption used to be a disease, the invisible

enemies, now the cure, the obese bubble we’re afraid

to burst – supernova when the light at noon illuminates

the boardrooms to the schoolrooms to the dark corners

where the human spirit crouches, waiting to spring,

waving a flashlight at rush hour traffic

Poet's Notes:  Diogenes wails over his millet every night, as the darkness closes in a little further. In the next room over, I roll out of bed, turn on my phone and use the most useful app I have downloaded: the super bright flashlight. Maybe one of the cats needs escorting to their food dish. Maybe the puppy is thirsty. Maybe Diogenes will end his quest tonight.

I sit down to some grainy gluten free toast, preparations for another day, less an accumulated hour of sleep spent assisting various needy four legged creatures. I load my lunch, papers, computer, and various books into the car, strap the birdcage in the passenger seat.

Just another Monday.