We were also talking about political poems.
And this is a poem called Presidents,
which was written some years ago but might just as well have
been written.
The president of shame has his own flag.
The president of lies quotes the voice of God as last counted.
The president of loyalty recommends blindness
to the blind.
Oh applause like the heels of the hanged.
He walks on eyes until they break, then he rides.
There is no president of grief.
It is a kingdom, ancient, absolute with no colors.
Its ruler has never seen.
Prayers look for him, also empty flags like skins.
Silence the messenger runs through the vast lands
with a black mouth open.
Silence the climber falls from the cliffs
with a black mouth like a call.
There is only one subject but he is repeated tirelessly.