The Phenotype

As I inhabit the human, and we populate the crowd
Without a glance at the grinning insipidity.
As you direct the militia in loving the great and proud,
They’re storing contrived abstractions of love and beauty.

As I collect the shrapnel, from smiles we have not yet won,
Stealing a glance at the faded caustic laughter.
As you undermine his conscience, as you load her first bright gun,
They’re hoarding ungainly children of grief thereafter.

As I entrench our glossolalic courage in the fight
Glancing again at the smirking wisps of present.
As you fabricate autistic scripts of what is wrong and right,
They’re dwelling in truths and mirrors of disenchantment.

As I round up the soldiers, and we join the muddy ranks,
Looking straight in the eyes of dead reality.
As you try to fly the doctrine from rifles and run down tanks
And they stoop to cower beneath their past naivety.

As I know the fact and fiction, but opt instead for the horde,
Trying not to stare at the guilt and pretention.
As you play a single note and tell the world that it’s a chord.
And they, unaware, build towers of ruin’s dimension.

So I’ll be the individual for mobs with a creed assigned
And you’ll be the noble captain grinning insipidly.
But while they are praised and honoured, with consciences undermined,
They’re storing abstractions and lies of love and beauty.