Žižek's Red Eyed Dumbo
The Metatroll arrives with an ashen,
charred copy of Notes from Underground.
He hands it to you with a crazed look in his eyes,
weaving in-and-out of conflicting philosophies,
prescribing logic to atrocities--
the house is on fire, yes,
but to worry about the people inside
You have to widen your lens,
You have to ask yourself,
is the house actually on fire?
Even so, you cannot protest a fire.
You speak of water, he says.
But we're in the middle of a drought.
We cannot spare.
We cannot afford that risk.
You say you're then inclined
to rush the fire.
He calls you naive.
Why would you do such a stupid thing
when you can look for your friends
safely in the rubble.
You're in a position where you can choose
whether or not to worry.
He's just trying to sell you peace and happiness.
He just wants to watch the world burn
& needs someone to share commentary with.
He promises to keep you around.
You fantasize about using your keys
to wolverine and slacken his chutzpah,
embody the radical left.
You dream of rising southpaws of inhumed bygones,
the salt overturns the acropolis in your skull,
mechanizes with poems;
jawbone and paperclip,
the breadth of alternate hangovers.
For some reason you must accept
this one as your own.
Kris Hall is an event coordinator for Ogopogo and Da'daedal. Author of the chapbooks Dillinger on the Beach (Horse Less Press) and Notes for Xenos Vesparum (Shotgun Wedding). His work has appeared in Juked, DREGINALD, Reality Beach, SHARKPACK Annual, and Seattle Review of Books. He currently lives with his wife and two cats.