Those we don’t understand
We fear
We are taught to confine, bind, and dissect
Slowly, painfully, under the watchful eye of a supervisor
The more nails we hammer in
The more straps layered over our victim
The deeper our incisions go
The more praise we are given
We try to wrestle meaning, and peel back layers
Simply trying to talk to the unknown
Just sitting and thinking
Pondering
Is lazy
Is irresponsible
It will hurt us
We need to get a fact, a choice, a answer
A definitive
Right
Point
Rather than thinking
Oh yes
We need to cut through the craft
The delicately carved masterpiece
Is firewood, tinder
Unnecessary fluff keeping us from our goal
No mercy
No thought
Rubrics
Trials
Procedures
Dissecting
With no morphine