Steve McEllistrem

The Devereaux Dilemma

Dear Id

The certitude of your betrayal

Outrages my soul

Overwhelms my infinite capacity for hope

For a brief time

As I contemplate how idiotic

Your actions and opinions always were.

I wonder how anyone can attain

Such an advanced age

Hold such a position

While holding such dissociative views.

I consider while I quiver

The disasters that await

The agony yet to come

From the fulfillment of your prophecies

Which will come to pass

By dint of your directives.

Yet in the darkness

I ask myself if this is truly wrong

If what you do is actually better

Than the lingering pain

Of all your opponents’ proposals

Which also have the potential

To drive us to the vicissitudes

Of despair.

Your progeny’s progeny’s generation

Will reminisce on your legacy

In their doddering years

And finally decide

What you did was good or evil.

I have no horse in this race.

My concern is purely theoretical

A detached observation

Accepting the possibility

I might be wrong

And you might have stumbled


Onto the precise combination of stupidity and luck

Necessary to propel us to the next level

Of development

Of evolution

Into creatures capable of more than we currently are.

I still hope.

God help me

I still hope.


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