In the Beginning of the Evergreen End
In the Beginning of the Evergreen End
First the fall came for the summer, I did not speak out, for I was evergreen. Then they came for the pumpkins, and I did not speak out, because I was not a pumpkin. Then they came for the turkeys, and I did not speak out, because I was not a turkey. Then they came for me, and I could not flee, I was a goddamn tree. Whose urges spur these back-to-back, back-to-school purges? Who seeks to jackknife orange gourds, goring them in their own image, then wreak swords on flightless fowl while they peek at lines of scrimmage? Silently, I shriek at the tight cords that cut into me surging with voltage, blighting the moonlight with blinking bright lights electrifying my plight. Why do you carve everything in sight? Because you starve? Or take delight in unstoring your might? Or are you so bored you soar overboard making everything your smorgasbord. Are there some retro rites that afford you this right to smite? Or is your sicko spite its own dark reward? History’s arc is bending, terror’s trending, our story’s wending toward this evergreen end. So this I’ve penned, a distressed friend request. Forget speaking out, we’re at the dead-end. This is good-bye. All I wish for is a simple reply. Please don’t forget to hit send.
This is a great take on Martin Niemuller’s poem with the evergreen playing the part of the complacent bystander. But in addition it also includes internal rhyme to unify it and to contrast with the original poem so that it doesn’t carry the same weighted impact.
There are a number of allusions to the time of year for the pumpkin and turkey which are cleverly worded which also point out the vanity, cruelty and waste of the people who insist on carrying on these practices. In this way it retains a significant degree of social criticism so essential to Niemuller’s cri de coeur.