by Anonymous

“Democracy dies in darkness.”

– The Washington Post

The floodlight is massive, shining like an alien craft come to visit.
Pointed directly into my face.
It would certainly be easier to see into a black hole.
"Article A is now present on the screen. Requesting, is this information true?
Is it valid?" They ask me.
I cannot see Article A with the
Unfathomable lantern in my face,
Like listening for a whisper
Over the din of war.
"Yes..." I stutter out.
""Article B is now present on the screen. Requesting, is this information true?
Is it valid?"
"No," I answer, arbitrarily.
We repeat the process, articles C through Z. 'Yes' and 'no' I repeat without thought—
It would be useless to think through the problem.
"Thank you," they say,
"For clearing this up.
The informaton you have noted
Has been marked appropriately."
The floodlight is shut off,
The room becomes pitch black,
And I can see just as much
As I could before.

This piece won the February 2025 contest:”Write a poem using a surprising inanimate object as a political or social metaphor.”