Orthodoxy means not needing to think. It is unconsciousness.
— George Orwell, 1984
The list
whispers in vellum,
parchment, calfskin quartos
whips studded with spikes
shrieks muffled
by fire.
Beneath purple
vestments
militant sabbaths
the rage
of resentful crowds
at school boards
voting booths
in percolating ether
a medieval
mind persists,
welded to sole truths
annealed against doubt;
yet these pages
leak fear
for a reason.
In pain
through blood
a pole-star
still beckons:
Say what you see.
Be what you are