Fulcrum

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A "second person" poem, from the anthology, Scenes From the Cerebellum, a work in progress

Fulcrum 

Listen to me sweetheart.
It is easy to be a fool.
It requires no intelligence at all.
You will always listen to those who speak
Words you personally want to hear.
You will always ignore and belittle those
Who disagree with your tentative notion
Of what the definitive truth is.
If you say the earth is round,
And there is a tone of finality in your voice,
I will say, fine, but I disagree.
I say it is flat, and I’m right because, well,
I have more college degrees than you,
I am obviously smarter than you,
I’m whiter than you, 
And have more money than you.
My house is bigger than yours,
And my car is faster.
Besides, flat objects don’t turn 
Elliptically in circles that 
Continue on and on, ad infinitum,
Without some kind of radical transmogrification 
Occurring in its plain and acute geometric form.
What would Einstein say?
He would agree with me of course!
He would say: “Two things are infinite,
The Universe, and human stupidity.”
Here sweetheart, have another chaser.
I detest talking politics with you,
But I love talking about Einstein,
And I love watching you sit there,
Showing off your shiny scented legs,
As you cross and uncross them
Restlessly.
Here, give me your foot,
I will massage your toes with cotton swabs,
And peanut butter,
And I will feed you my electric eel eggs.

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