“Get up! Get
up! Get up!”
They shout.
As if their pleas
will somehow
roust us from
our
comfortably narrow
perspectives.
“To Arms! To
Arms! To Arms!”
They rally.
As if their demands
will be met
with anything other
than our
complete resistance to
being told
what to do.
“Rise! Rise!
Rise!”
They cajole.
As if their nudging
will make us
do anything other
than be
bothered, and circle tightly
around our warm
and cozy apathy.
“Make way!
Make way! Make way!”
They push.
As if their shoving will
make us move
from the spot of
Earth we’ve
tethered ourselves,
our place of
obstinacy.
“C’mon guys!
C’mon gals! C’mon!”
They
beg. As if our hearts will be
swayed by
their personal prayers
for action,
for our indignation and
outrage.
“We’ll get
to it! We’ll get to it! We’ll get to it!”
We scream
back. As if they’ll listen to us
after all
our protestations, denials, and
general ennui
and snooze button
slapping.
“Okay, maybe
later! Maybe later!”
They shrug.
As if our swimming
in sand will
somehow make us
better fish.
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