You elected me to lead for the specific purpose of disobeying their command.
They elected you to lead with the idea of disobeying her command.
She elected them to lead in order to disobey my command.
I elected her to lead in the hope of disobeying your command.
Orders
Boris Zolotov & The Kyshtym Dwarf
A human chain 100 people long intoning an old Soviet favorite snaked its way through the water and onto the beach. It stopped to meet me. “Boris Yevgenyevich.”
“Michael.”
“I’m just going to dry off and we’ll talk in a few minutes.”
He shook my hand and walked on. Being the leader the rest of the chain followed suit, greeted me and went to get dressed. For most of them that meant from scratch, not changing out of a wet suit. They were lined up boy-girl-boy-girl, a mix of ages 30 to 70, with all appendages fully extended, reaching out to the person ahead in line. And that’s how they marched on, removing a hand from somewhere to shake mine and moving along. Soon it would begin to be truly strange.
Titan
Time moves so slowly
since it’s become a man.
Locks knocked from behind its ears
buoy to stillness.
Moths too small for its swat
course toward zero.
Beyond the second next step
even slower still
a gesture should be sufficient.
But the Titan concedes
a flourish
to an unsatisfiable public.