Meta-Stasis

 
Consider the beast, serenity,
Ferocious in all her aspects;
As beneficial to peace of mind
As Spain was to the Aztecs.
 
Behold the demon, tranquility  
(The devil keeps her score);
Stunning in her ugliness,
As virtuous as a whore.
 
Have you seen the hellcat, amenity?
She, even now, gives birth
To horrors of every vile kind
That rise, and walk the Earth.
 
Equanimity, you termagant.
What evils do you, now?
Is there no perversion you’ll not perform?
—No sin you won’t avow?
 
What slanders do I speak, you cry?
Virtues termed abominations?
Ah! You’ve not sensed my psyche, friend.
Nor perceived its applications.