Options

An emissary of the kingdom approached me, offer in hand:

Full citizenship in the democracy of They

With full, unstinted knowledge of what They say

And continuous initiation in the windy way

Of conformity, (which is their word for Mordor.)

To wit, I would be known throughout the land

As One of Us: a standard bearer in that noble order,

With all the rights and privileges pertaining

Thereunto, with not a shade remaining

Of loneliness, (which is their name for solitude.)

I thanked them kindly, and inquired of them the price

To which they laughingly said there was no hurry.

All payments are delayed, and not to worry.

They said, “Our payment is easy and our cost is light.”

So I in their whimsical fellowship was one,

And deep inside the inner circle came,

For a time, and entered into exclusive fun.

Payment was delayed, but all the same

The bill at length arrived. It was very easy.

An automatic payment option for the lazy,

That would take the payment even in my sleep

And the payment (they said) was nothing I would want to keep.

They only asked to take from me my crazy.

Really, you know, they were doing me a service

And the paperwork was already almost complete

Stack, collated and stapled nice and neat,

Needing only a signature. Don’t be nervous,

The signature is only a formality

To set up automatic withdrawal, and return you to normality.

But I noticed that in all that stack of copious paperwork,

There was no “decline” box for me to check.

Not that I meant to decline, but what the heck?

Did they really think that no one ever would?

Or could?

And gradually that lack began to irk

My mind.

And then it hit me out of a clear blue sky,

I couldn’t do it. The price was far too high.

When they said “Crazy,” what they really meant was “Why?”

Pieces fell in place, and the horizon grew apace

Before the dusky incomprehension of their face

Slack-jawed in bland complacency, like my own.

There were options, dawning like the sun

In blinding profusion.

Before their growing confusion,

Mingled with disgust and nascent hate.

I asked, “Why take their paperwork, when I have an empty slate?

Why crawl when I could even dare to die.”

So I politely told them what I didn’t give,

For their tribute; And went my way and began to live.