you might wonder
which is better:
a civilization built
on blood—
all arches,
stairs, and
domino columns;
all rivers of pyruvate,
angrily spinning
the tormented wheels
of metabolic work—
or one that builds
simple but formidable
strongholds
and clean, genial
ministries out of
chivalrous words.
But the best answer
might depend
on whether you'd prefer
to be culpable
(always, of course,
from behind the veil
of ignorance)
for the things
that you say,
or
the ones
you cover up.
