by flammeusgladius





The surface, folks, of every study

Is all our shallow minds can stand.

We like it clear, though we are muddy.

We like it gone on our command.

Although we schedule very little,

We dodge the challenge of the riddle:

We don’t confront the hard-eyed sphinx;

We shape a paper foe – who blinks.

And off to distant wastes we banish

All who will not adopt our smile,

All who sneer at our empty style

And dare correct us.  Let them vanish!

Through paradox, our souls rebound:

The superficial is profound!




–Tom Riley




(First appeared in The Lyric, v.92, n. 4, Fall 2012.)