Vicious Indifference

It was a day full of tristesse.
The birds knew it,
dogs, wolves and roaches
sensed it,
yet, the one chosen
to die,
was in its
own daydream.

It had been,
over the centuries,
a nice enough
existence.
Watching
and waiting,
participating,
in all that life had
to offer.

The word was proud
of itself,
and what
it stood for.
At one time
it had even
considered
to ask for that
little 'von',
which would be a sign
of nobility.

But, everyone,
everywhere,
even the bad people
were in awe,
and thus, in agreement
that there was
an integrity,
and a bit of godliness
in the term,
and that it was,
by all indications,
and with the wisdom
of empiricism,
an indispensable word.

Humane.
And when the day came,
where tristesse itself
paid a visit,
perhaps in a vain effort
to alleviate
any suffering
to come about,
there was
no big drama,
no explosion of
a man-made bomb.
No missiles were fired.

Just a brief crack of thunder,
and the word humane
was no more.
Killed by,
it was later found,
through a committee
sent from Heaven,
a monster named
Vicious Indifference.

But, as sometimes happens,
the committee had
no executive powers,
and left after the verdict
had been delivered
to the local priest,
who had to be disturbed,
pulled out of bed
by his cohabitating
housekeeper.

Later that night,
both the housekeeper
and the priest,
were seen
entering, what some
in the congregation
secretly had baptised
The Kingdom Of Bacchus,
and that's where they spent
the days until it was
high time for the
Sunday Sermon.

Meanwhile,
in the absence of
objections
or common sense,
the people had agreed
that Vicious Indifference
be the new Mayor,
and by democratic
global extrapolation,
the new leader.

It was expected
that the priest would,
without delay,
make the appropriate
announcement,
on Sunday,
from the height
and authority of
the pulpit.


He did his best,
having forgotten his
spectacles
in the Kingdom,
to decipher a
hastily scribbled
note,
but he did
what was required.

Tristesse left that day,
in the afternoon,
its own nature,
which was sadness,
was unable to withstand
what the new order
stood for.
Nothing was the same,
nor would it ever be,
again.
No.

Only the priest,
whose stipend
was immediately
increased,
drastically,
and whose life
did change for the better
through the
abolition of
celibacy,
and all other restrictions,
deemed unnecessary
by his Highness,
the new Emperor,
only the Man of God
felt that nothing
untoward
had happened.

And God?
He cursed
the day he had,
in a fit of
malic acidosis,
decreed that
Heaven could not
interfere.
He would have liked to,
as he had felt like that
on countless previous
occasions,
when unspeakable sins
were committed,
and he had to watch.

But then, he said
to himself,
in a whisper,
that 'a word is a word',
referring to his decree,
not to the word that had
been murdered.
And he found
that indifference,
at this time,
and any other time,
was, indeed
heavenly.

by Herbert Nehrlich

Comments (3)

Indifference is very powerful and you described it to a tee here.......Good write!
demaciado fabuloso, Senor Nehrlich! I see the pack of fools has been here....
Good poem Herbert. Liked the subject of Indifference and the way you characterized it.