Naked
we're naked
just like the emperor
just like the prophet
just like the priest
and the poet
and the philosopher
and all the other pests
naked now
as we were on day one
just as naked
both now and then
as the emperor
both now and then too
naked
and believing things
we don't really believe
like what this emperor says
or what the emperor before him
this one's opposite
said
fooling ourselves with convictions
about one thing or its opposite
all playing along
that either one
either emperor's ensemble
doesn't leave us naked
and even if it was real
either ensemble
would be so mismatched
as to look like shit
so instead of seeing
we are naked
or, at least
pathetically mismatched
we divide
and delude ourselves in our divisions
that even if real
A's ensemble
is far more coordinated
far more fashionable
far more moral
far more righteous
than Z's
boots
scarves
cloaks
crowns
of all the things that matter
which gods
or no god
the supernatural
or corporeal
to give
or not to give
and how
where
and when
cause allegiance
to one emperor or another
feels better than
being naked
with no allegiance
with no fellow conformers
and no fellow confirmers
that your emperor's style of nakedness
is best
believing we are clothed
protected from the elements
and each other
all the while knowing
that it's not the mirror that lies
it's all of us
them and you
and not a fraction
but all
in one way or another
except that child
that declares
we are all naked
then told to shut up
and just pretend too
for it's not just the emperor's nakedness
the child exposes
it's everyone's nakedness
except for the single article
the ring or bracelet
a real thing
that most can agree
is either silver or gold
a confirmation to both
that everything's real
including the delusion
of any other
seeing it as silver
rather than gold
and arguing which is best
accessories and accouterments
silver or gold
or even platinum
or something else
equally distracting
in their insistence upon
reason over emotion
emotion over reason
freedom and order
or
order and freedom
defense or offense
fight or forgive
finality or infinity
mostly temperament
or conditioning
or fear
we're loath to admit
that keeps us from seeing any emperor
and ourselves
as scared
and so impure
in our nudity
nudity
our natural state?
the state of nature?
or the state of the beast
and savage?
without all the garments
of the emperor
and our
silly
mimicking ensembles
we are mere primitives
so we must believe
the emperor and we
are fully clothed
and the others naked
until the next emperor
or priest
or shaman
or philosopher
or artist
comes along
and we switch sides
from offense to defense
in the game of mutual delusion
so as not to catch
a glimpse
of our own nakedness
ever
and forever
offending or defending
crying and babbling
or praying
in need of new cloths
clothing of true inhibition
instead of the the liquid courage
of the emperor's new style
or the fashions of
the prophet
priest
poet
or philosopher
we need
brand new clothes
cut from our own cloth
and held together
with our own stitches
and seams
or else
to finally admit
there are no clothes
at all
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