Enoch
From deep in the depths of my memory,
A tale, long forgotten, came back to me:
A small, invisible, anomaly,
Was alleged, by the certifiably,
Insane occupant, of a prison cell,
To be residing on top of his head,
And he, unwillingly under its spell,
Was urged to do whatever it said.
In a forceful, irresistible way,
This parasite imp, acquired in a dream,
Relentlessly, worried him night and day,
Polluting his mind, with a constant stream
Of toxic rhetoric, poured in his ears;
Thoughts, uninhibited, grown from seeds,
Extracted from fruit, bearing ideas,
Abound with prejudice; the type that feeds
On ignorance, fear, and bigotry.
Presently, he, with a doctor confides;
A cerebral, highly admired, MD,
And criminal psychologist, besides:
“Return if you can; go back to the start;
When did these murderous urges begin?”
He asked, and, on being urged to impart;
The murderer shared his secrets within:
“I was asleep, dreaming, when he first came,
Falling from out of the sky or a tree,
He landed on me, announcing his name;
I woke up, and Enoch was still with me,
There on my scalp, like a louse or a tick;
At first, I thought I was having a kind
Of breakdown, and there was a lunatic,
Babbling on and on and on in my mind,
He's a terrible burden; day and night,
Droning: ‘Beware, if you have a white face;
In a world of yellow, brown, black and white,
Yours will become the minority race;
Prepare!’ He demands; “The darkest of times
Are approaching, and will shortly be here.”
He whispers commands; commits me to crimes,
And if I ignore him, he’ll kill me, I fear.”
“Terrible burdens are far better shared;
What is it; right now, he wants you to do?”
Said the doctor, and the killer declared:
“He says he wants me to give him to you”;
“Oh does he really? That seems pretty fair;
Let me have Enoch for a day or two.”
The doctor suggested, leaving his chair,
As the killer, without further ado,
Complied, allowing the doctor to take
The burden away, immediately,
And Enoch, being received as a fake,
Was all but a horrible memory,
Now crowning the doctor, taking his leave:
“See you tomorrow; both Enoch and I.”
He said, in the spirit of make-believe,
And exited, with a final “Goodbye.
For two days, the killer, restlessly slept,
Or lay, wide-awake on his prison bed,
Whilst wardens watched; wondering why, he kept
Obsessively touching, scratching his head,
Oblivious; neither eating nor drinking;
He apparently, had lost, or was losing,
His reasoning; progressively sinking,
Against his will, or by his own choosing?
The cell door opened; the doctor came in;
Stood at the foot of the murderers’ bed,
With his mouth open in a rictus grin,
Recalling some things that Enoch had said:
“He says, our enemies are non-white-men,
We’ll be overrun, by the time they’re done;
He wants me to buy a weapon and then,
Go on a rampage and kill every one;
And if I refuse, he’ll rupture my brain;
He’ll kill me, unless I do what he says;
Even now, he’s threatening me again;
I haven’t eaten or slept for two days.”
The killer said, “I told you it was true;
Enoch’s a prophet and he knows what’s best;
Try following one of his orders through;
Do like he says and he might let you rest.”
“No!” Said the doctor, Enoch isn’t real;
This madness is somehow your wicked plan.
My purpose in life is to cure and heal;
I’m not like you; I’m a peaceable man…”
… And then, he collapsed, landing with a thud
On grey-painted concrete, breathing no more;
Streams from a river, “Foaming with much blood”,
Poured from orifices, flooding the floor.
The wardens came in; a streak of white light,
Flew from the floor, to the murderer’s bed;
Quick as a flash, beyond all human sight,
Enoch returned to the top of his head.
Assuming a look of shock and dismay,
The murderer was securely restrained;
The wardens lifted and carried away
The cadaver, warm, white-coated; bloodstained.
An autopsy revealed the doctor’s death,
Was caused by a clot and internal bleed;
His organs, having been studied in depth;
The funeral was allowed to proceed.
The murderer; incarcerated still;
From a cell in Broadmoor, started a trend,
Preparing a far-right-funded appeal,
With the help of his
Invisible friend.
