The half-life of lead is forever
The Belgians got the lead out of their paints in 1898
We got rid of ours in 1978.
‘Ethyl’ gas, so named to fool.
The sine of rising crimes in the United States
Mirrors our plague of lead.
No reparations, no relief
Only more prisons, and, cops
And narc scum pumping it
Into those already damaged by earlier exposure,
Like there is never too much of a bad thing.
At least Joseph Goebbels had the decency
To murder his wife and six kids.
Not so Hill and Knowlton who
Have plumbed the depths of doubt.
Scientists had careers smashed for the sin
Of showing accurate data or as some call it,
Telling the truth. Whereas, this leading industry showed us what can be
accomplished when we are force fed an ancient bane.
Depraved indifference the very definition of murder and it made true
Heroes of Nixon’s EPA and General Motors
For fuck sakes!
Look over your shoulder, you should be so proud.
When your creations begin to go NKVD on your ass,
One bullet, two brains.
Bit of a mess but real thrift
With your luck less reason brings
You lead where others fear to tread
Thank you for introducing everyone
to the wonder of a lead planet. 1
1 thought on “Plomb Cerveau”
Something to wrap your mind around and suffer its wrapping around your mind. Punning on the word “lead” and other words. The title could be translated “Lead on the Brain.” Lead is a toxic element that stays around and won’t go away, irreducibly bad for us. And the truth is that while industry, politics, and public relations may say they’ve “gotten the lead out,” that is a lie. Maybe paint has been purged of the element, but in this poem it is global: ours is “a lead planet.” Lead stands for the lie itself, the cover up for not getting rid of what keeps profits together with crime on a rising curve.