When the man who’d sown discord
to win his prize took the microphone
to claim his victory —suddenly conciliatory,
invoking unity, not one soul in his ardent audience
would hear the irony, would smell the rank symmetry,
or admit to seeing Duplicity
on his shoulder like a winking bird,
nor hear truth’s angels hovering in air
singing a sad chorale, weeping,
singing to tell again
that this is just the kind of thing
Cynicism loves and History abides
but which Love and Wisdom
most despise
Jim Culleny
11/10/16
Blink 