Of Emperors and Their Merry Pranks

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Sand Waves, Islas Graciosa — photo by author

Was a time
or so we’re told,
a kid called out the Emperor
for prancing naked down the road.
He’d sold out for schemes and dreams
and counted currency for lies.
But it wasn’t too late.
Not then.
Everyone had a laugh and walked away.

The kid who’s calling out Emperors today,
Just a kid in pig tails who won’t say,
“It’s all OK.”
when so clearly the answer is no.
Not so easy when all the rest are practiced in the art
of self-deception.
When so merrily we go along
to get the fairer share.
Who dare, upset the towering scheme?

Our pyramids are built of sand,
grain on grain and not a bit sustainable
Maybe she knows there can be no happy ending,
that all the accounts are long overdrawn
to fund our Anthroposcenic moment in the sun.

There is no walking away this time.
Nor waiting, to see what others do,
The only way it is not too late
is if each begins, today, to act.

Writer, walker, poet, educator. Commercial fisherman, builder, donut maker, organic grower. Boston, U. City, Maine, South Africa, Madrid.

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