The Real Star Wars

In the Real Star Wars,
not long ago,
in a galaxy not that far away,
perhaps even next door,
yesterday,
the real Dearth Vader
gets Alzheimer's
and manages to mask it
from the Imperial Council
whose evil bureaucracy
carves out its own living
by misdiagnosing even more
personal things
than the human condition.

In the real Star Wars,
Luke, the son,
encounters the capeless Vader
in a darkened room
experimenting with a light sabre
that has been switched
from incurable red
to a setting of UV blue.

Vader is flicking it back and forth
to make the smoothest fan possible.

He is misspelling his name
in sweeping letters of light.

He is performing the perfect sword play
with that ridiculous figure of evil
who resides in the mirror.

This is the beginning of Luke's sweet revenge.
It is time to become the parent.
It is time to assume control.
And, for the sake of kindness,
without his father even knowing.

It is time to keep that kitch death star glowing
while maintaining for Vader
the illusion of his own autonomy -

not a bad Hollywood version
of the science fiction we call life.