This book in a lot of ways is just
a nightmare about power, or how you are
supposed to rise into power.
And so this poem, I always tell people
is sort of like, if the world became a true nightmare
and I were elected president, this
is like what I would say at my own inauguration, or whatever,
with my hand.
"His Induction."
"My oath here tonight is I'll die with my hand on the Oxford
Bible.
My former president's name on my tongue
like the last town I sacked.
And when I fall on my sword, I'll fall on my sword so well,
I'll put Rome to shame.
I'll wait, I'll wait until your donkeys go crazy
and trample me home.
It's your men who will tattoo my face on their feet
when they war dance.
It's your women who will stitch my name in their linens
and soil them.
In each town you name in my honor, you'll name smithereens.
And each elm you plant in my honor
will wilt me a portrait of leaves.
And when it's your turn to kiss the rings of the bone thief.
And when your Manhattan is dross and piled with grave goods
I'll death so well they'll say dying is ripping me off.
And I'll finger my name on your tongue
like it was your first born."