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.