Something solemn and a bit hysterical |
I applaud, bow, curtsey and what else? Do somersaults before you, Doctor Wakefield. I don’t receive four hundred thousand dollars for this, Nor in fact (honest and open one) a single dollar. Maybe cents... which I put for scaly dragons to guard - For your benefit. I adore you merely for adoration’s sake. We had lived in a nightmare. Only one inch of distance between the indigo paradise And a happy parent. Only one inch... then something goes excruciatingly wrong And the happy parent-plus-child symbiosis boat Sinks like lead without reaching the haven. Catastrophes cannot be small. Each feels like the “Titanic” But without a James Cameron To make it an easily forgettable show. Things stood pitiably so before Your arrival. But then you came and said: “Folks, be quiet, For - firstly - You would not, I hope, Fuss over the mere constipation? The autism is not a blank windowless wall As it may seem in your bad hours. Don’t hit your heads against walls Trying to light in another’s head A spark at least - a tiny strip of the way you perceive this world. This is not metaphysical. Merely intestinal. Those intestinal disorders Which produce wrong opinions And pessimistic philosophies... Man ist was man isst, Man waechst wie man ist vaxxed. This brings us to the second point - The villain. If you’re religious Don’t question a godhead Which moulds some children Being crazy or drunken or just careless - Bonus dormitat Homerus. God’s plans are always kind and thoughtful But for the vaccine which stands in their way. Being kicked out of the paradise Is not so nasty If you know whom to blame. The Bible was allegorical With its serpent narrative; Ancient Hebrew just had not means To spell it right: MMR vaccine”. Doctor Wakefield, we are your soldiers! We stand in a row before you Upright to the envy of plumb-lines. Our faces are turned In the revealing direction Of your pointing finger. Our hands have gripped fiercely our rifles. We finally know Where the foe is. |