Maturing into his second act, Stone Hand knows respect
and ridicule, mostly from late-night comedians
with ample skill to quip lacerations on the ego,
so he is somewhat humbled and easier to encounter.
Accepted as a son of four fathers–Jobs, Ghandhi
Windsor, and Augustine–Stone Hand’s expertise
is deferred to in times of crisis; can Stone Hand free
the reporter trapped behind enemy lines? Can he
negotiate peace? He can, or some believe, the man
is a living legacy. The blemish of controversy faithfully doffed
and tucked into distant memory, Stone Hand appears
to be above reproach above mere complaint or criticism.
Most unexpected, Stone Hand is late for a meeting
and stumbles into a counter-part, the Critic, also
in an act of life the summation of many years.
The Critic was only a blip on Stone’s Hands radar to that day.
Their feud mostly brewing for the Critic to boost reviews,
his news show being quite popular for airing grievances
amassing to the extreme left, and he made Stone Hand late
with the inquiry, “A minute for a loyal follower?”
Critic and Stone Hand chat amiably, and then Critic hits hard lines
“Contrivances abound in our world, I say our because my pen
moves at your whims, it is true, I am nothing without you,
your missteps being my favorite, but I am sure you agree
that, the man at the helm dictates your comfort of sleep
and I have not slept in years. In my deprivation, I am coming
to a truth that there is no fix to our problems, we are in what
is known as perpetual motion, constantly moving, with nothing lost or gained
the progress necessary for real movement is beyond our comprehension
you can’t do it because you are our manifestation
of this checkpoint we enjoy, the last thing
you want is advancement. I can play lamprey and get through
and will until I stumble on a truth,
to spur revolution to rid our world of the likes of you.
enjoy it, Stone Hand, for you are the present,
you are us, but hopefully not for long.”
Stone Hand understood dissent, and once again
the Critic is dismissed, only this time he is Contented,
meanwhile the hand that bore Stone Hand trembles
aware that his dawn is waning.
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