I wrote "The Disease" in the early days of the internet. I was living on the cheap, eking out my savings from a Ph.D. scholarship because a dishonorable scoundrel in academia had made life difficult for me.
Satan on his way to bring about the downfall of Adam. Gustave Doré’s illustration for Paradise Lost by John Milton. Paradise Lost Book III, lines 739-742 |
But this is not the place for my story.
Much worse than what happened to me is when folks don't just get their career destroyed but actually die for no fair reason. And that's what happened twenty-three years ago today.
This poem was written around 1997-1999. I was sitting in my old apartment with an antiquated laptop, unconnected to any internet, writing this stream-of-consciousness verse. Typing away, I noticed just how ominous the lines were becoming (rotting sky...all are doomed to die) and didn't really understand why.
I almost cut the darker parts but left the work unchanged for artistic integrity.
Was I foreseeing 9/11? Or was I alluding to dark transnational forces controlling the person who hurt me?
Maybe both were connected. You never know with terror and shady operators.
The Disease
I’ve watched it grow
I’ve seen it sow
true minds into despair
souls of sorrow
ladened deep
burning horrid stares
I’ve seen it work
at lightning speed
to destroy mankind’s seed
through the air
it does its deed
this is its only care
sans partiality
sans decency
Yes, this is “the disease”
You over there!
you believe you’re clear
of this melancholy breeze?
Well let me tell you
if you please
it’s a fatal,
dreadful siege
For once contracted
once enacted
you’ll go on normally
“it’s okay”
“I’m just fine”
“yes, I think I am still free”
But then, alas!
the grippe is tightened
beyond all points of ease
and shipwrecked sailors on the sea of life
all drown
irrevocably
Yes I’ve seen this blight
‘cross this land
and winds are blowing high
no apple pie nor starlit nights
will save this rotting sky
all is darkened
all are dead
all are doomed to die
Lance it fast while time remains
avoid a fearsome plight
destroy this curse
and rest assured
your mark is
for the
light
Cast it out and let us pray
“Lord give us back our sight”
Cast it out to guarantee,
Truth shall conquer might
The Disease © 1997, Michael W. Clark.
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