The Hate Parade
The only ones watching the parade
are those wishing to join
a procession of ritual purpose
possessed by ecstatic expressions.
Observers won’t rush the floats
in mobs that spoil a desirable display
whose emergence and disappearance
no one sees
while too awestruck to move
and it’s a good thing they are;
anyone cursed with too clear,
too direct
trains of thought
finds the place from where the cavalcade comes
and where it eventually goes,
showing why such exaltation
and jubilation seize them
when they get to come out for a few hours,
feel the sun
and only be beset by blessed celebrations,
a relief to all except the few
thwarted
by how crowds viciously kill
anyone who gets off
for acts of ingratitude
as they’re tormented
by staying so tantalizingly close to escape.
Those who can’t fake enough joy
wear mascot suits of another’s flesh
with permanently smiling
mouths stitched up
as city guards stay far back and watch
in fear
of what those too jaded
to follow the parade might find
if they unanchor their attention
from a perpetually moving spectacle
then wander off,
unchecked and self-possessed.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Image Credit: “Confetti parade,” abstract art [Linkin Park Association]
- The Hate Parade by Paul Edward Costa - May 19, 2022