sometimes you just gotta ask yourself, ‘What would Luke Skywalker do?’

would he

               dig his heels into Dagobah to heed the dead impasse of a Jedi’s heart

               in contemplation and condemnation

               of impulse and indignation,

               the Jedi’s code that took his father’s life but left his limbs for lightsabers,

               that said, ‘You belong to a thing and an idea and never to yourself,’

or would he

               descend into the womb of war and deception on Bespin in the spinning warp and weave of a galaxy long ago and faraway and today and here the same

               just to get his right hand cut off in a laser knife fight facing the right hand of fascism

                              (who cannot be forgiven and dies to become something worth forgiving)
                                             (and dies to become himself and not the idea and not the thing)

               but doing it

               out of compassion and callow wishing

               that things will work out

               instead of splashing like X-wing shrapnel on star-ringed backgrounds.