Hot Rock

In this melting heat I am an elastic acrobat with a pliable spine.
If this implies I remain manipulable, don’t get me wrong;
meticulously imbibed values run through me like Blackpool.
But if you insist that conflict brings about justice,
I bite through to your impervious core, and show you revenge;
when you testily suggest progress can be measured along a continuum,
I answer that the future of the earth is round.
So we (me and me) rock, split and roll over in our sweltering debates,
kicking back with Greenpeace, arcing over to Amnesty,
or throwing in our lot to proclaim belief in the will of God.
In this sticky heat I am clammy after a day of mass debate
but if I shower my body I may sacrifice the plasticity of my mind.