There is a dream in which one is naked. But no one is looking at you,... yet And that is so much worse; the anticipation of being gawked at is more disconcerting than being gawked at. And, yet, one can't bring oneself to shout, attracting onlookers, so as to end the misery of anticipation. One can only sit with one's naked expectations -- wading in anxiety.
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POEM: The Emperor’s New Clothes
It wasn’t the Emperor’s nudity
that so offended me.
It wasn’t what I saw, but rather
that which I could not see —
a skeptic’s sense of what was not,
what was, and what might be.
Anyone who knew their ignorance
could never be so fooled.
He’d say, “I know that I know not;
of that I needn’t be schooled,
but that man is plainly marching
so completely butt-a$$ nude.
It’s they who say, “I must look good.”
who become ego-ruled.
And can’t see the Emperor is
so very, clearly nude.