Tangled Roots

In ancient days, ink was made of animal blood.

Today, the blood of ignominy

Stains the earth.

The bull


Maul, rape, despoil

Far from Pamplona.

We, the most brilliant creatures yet known

The innovators, inventors, imagineers

The destroyers, the executioners

The dispensers of hate.

Can we go on a war diet?

Can we live one week

Without murdering



Are astroseismologists right?

Stars that give warmth and light

Are also brutal marauders

That smother their planets

With lethal radiation.

Some say the world will end in fire

Some say in ice

As a teardrop falling on the sobs of history

I think hatred

Will suffice.(1)

I cannot soften the cosmos,

The rabid, the aggrieved, the infuriated.

But I can wrap you in gentleness

Erase, maybe, the bloody stains

Of post-Eden dystopia

Create, maybe, a dollop of joy

A teaspoon

Of stainless ecstasy

In a world

That eradicates


c. Corinne Whitaker 2016 - 2023

(1) I find that I have agreed with Robert Frost.

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copyright 2023 Corinne Whitaker