Omnia Negat
“To a lie I have never descended—
And untruth I have never intended.
Let your charge be denied!”
“But I just proved you lied.”
“By your proof I am deeply offended!”
–Tom Riley
The Virtuecrat
Yes, his tone is exalted and knowing.
He makes sure his connections are showing
As he gives his address.
All the sheep here bleat yes.
But his ass, not his virtue, is growing.
–Tom Riley
The Loyalist
He betrayed all his friends. The demands
Of the age, which the sage understands,
Made such deeds necessary.
But of judgment be wary:
He was loyal to all of his brands!
–Tom Riley
The Prophet of Decadence
“What a powerful brain you’ve displayed!”
They exclaimed. “Ah,” he said, “I’m afraid
That my neurons won’t last:
My best thinking is past!”
In a year, he was sorely decayed.
–Tom Riley
Back to Normal
“We’ve got your neurons back to normal, sir.
Think really hard and then agree with us:
Of truth is each of us a minister.
We’ve got your neurons back to normal, sir—
And judgment’s not an act we can defer
A moment longer. Now we’re serious:
We’ve got your neurons back to normal, sir.
Think really hard – and then agree with us.”
–Tom Riley
She Knows It All
“Of course,” she says, “of course I know it all!”
But ask a little further and you’ll find
Her ignorance as solid as a wall,
As brainless as a boulder, and as blind.
You’ll stare hard at the limits of her mind,
Just past her proud and showy fluency,
And rule her category reassigned:
She’s not among the canny. No, not she!
She is an emblem of transparency,
As clear and hard as sheets of plexiglass.
In her there is no room for subtlety,
No roundness of a motivating ass.
So turn away, my lad, from conversation:
She’s all there on initial observation.
–Tom Riley
Little Hitler
Big Hitler wants to murder lots of Jews.
But Little Hitler only wants salutes
From guys who have exchanged civilian shoes
For really shiny military boots.
Is Little Hitler evil? He disputes
The very thought – for order’s not a sin.
His Powerpoint unerringly refutes
The errors of the accurate and thin.
Saliva isn’t dripping from his chin.
He isn’t rabid, as some foes assume.
But his calm talk could make a cool head spin
And produce snores throughout a spacious room.
He’s harmless: so his groupies, lame, contend.
I wish on him a hard and fiery end.
–Tom Riley
Triolet to Duty
He did the duty that he had to do—
But greatness doesn’t come about that way.
His clear and certain failures? They were few.
He did the duty that he had to do.
Beyond that line, he didn’t have a clue—
And his survivors don’t have much to say.
He did the duty that he had to do.
But greatness doesn’t come about that way.
–Tom Riley
Curse of the Cyberneticians
The chipmunk’s brain is full of information
The blacksnake’s belly can’t appreciate
As it digests the neurons. Ah, creation!
The chipmunk’s brain is full of information—
Forever lost to serpentine predation.
Cyberneticians curse – but such is fate:
The chipmunk’s brain is full of information
The blacksnake’s belly can’t appreciate.
–Tom Riley
(First appeared in Magic Realism, Issue #6, Summer 1992.)
Flammeus Gladius 