Cognitive Bias

The more I learn about animals,

the more I grow wary of humans.

And among the humans I distrust most,

there is one subspecies

I remain particularly circumspect of,

those that arrive breathless with righteousness,

announcing,

with lungs swollen by their own virtue,

that they are here for the greater good,

that they are here to build a better world,

as though salvation were a lesson in public speaking,

as though they were alchemists

mistaken for everyone else,

their humility

performed with theatrical precision.

People call them names.

The wise.

The worldly.

The intellectual.

The liberal.

They polish these names

until they gleam like medals

pinned to a conscience

eager to be corrupted.

I prefer simpler taxonomy.

I prefer to call them what they spend their entire lives trying not to become —

ordinary lives cloaked in extraordinary lies.

I'd rather pet an alligator 

than mistake a parasite for a prophet.

Call a parasite a prophet long enough,

and eventually

language forgets they weren't synonyms.