Deciding.
Let's see.
I think, sometimes, for a little comic relief,
we need to make fun of politicians.
They make it so easy.
So thank you, politicians.
This particular one has retired.
He shall not be named, but he shall
be memorialized in this poem.
I will just say that the title of the poem
is the name of what some Palestinians say
is our national dish.
I can't say it is our national dish, because that
will start an actual war.
But some Palestinians say maqluba is our national dish.
It's a dish made of rice, and chicken, and roasted eggplants
and cauliflower.
And it's cooked in a pot and then turned upside down,
which is why the word maqluba means upside-down.
So this is "Maqluba."
The congressman began his remarks
to a room of refugees and their children,
who had invited him to share their national dish
after the most recent massacre with Ultimately--
then ran his tongue across his front teeth.
There is a special relationship, then a slight twitch of his chin
and increased activity all around his mouth.
Look.
And his left hand flew up like a shield
as he jammed his pinky fingernail beneath his top lip
and excavated the gum line.
I get it from behind his hand.
Several of the elders leaned forward in their chairs
to decipher his muffled pronouncements.
"Here's what I will say," emphasis on "will,"
so that the room was now focused on what he wouldn't say.
Then finally, a moment of audible relief
as the shard of almond was dislodged, restoring peace
to canine and incisor.
Gracious in victory, he placed it ever so gently in his palm.
His words dropped off as he examined it.
And for a moment, it was just the congressman
and the almond in the room.
When an elder cleared his throat and snapped him out
of his reverie, he looked up at his hosts seated
around the table and at the collapsing
dome of fragrant rice, eggplant, and chicken at its center.
And he remembered to offer the traditional greeting,
"You and I can agree the best hope is to return
to negotiations."
They're funny, but also really depressing.
Anyway.