You can’t trust nostalgia

nostalgia

is about as honest

as donald trump.

both can have

a strangle hold on

truth,

can with their intensity

foster romanticized emotion,

spin gold

at another party’s expense.

except the gold is memory,

vivid though imprecise.

doctored somehow

more real over time.

violent

in their handling

of fragile things.

like perception,

and groundedness.

our ideas produced both,

we say unconsciously.

you had to not be there

to miss the irony;

evil loves wondering

if we believe it looms

distantly,

or close by.

it’s so apparent we call it bombastic,

using humor to hide our fright.

to deny our shame.

to contain the impact,

better known as harm.

We still

have

so much

to learn

about

danger.