i’m watching the news and it is evident
that this is you, no matter how
you deny it:

blank, though storm faced, able to leap
a premise at a word from on high,
willing to eat paste in public
if it helps the cause, willing to lick ass
and let your lips show the leftovers
if that’s what it takes to win.

man, i don’t want to know
how you sleep, or about what dreams a guy like you
must have. i recognize the shit
of the eagle on your pocket
and i think you know as well as i
what you gave in order to gain your gain.
i don’t entirely blame you.
you just do what you’ve been told to do —
but then again, that’s how we got here, isn’t it?

but let’s get back to your face that looks like rain,
soft rain but rain nonetheless; let’s get back to the fact
that you’ll be drying yourself over this one for a while.
let’s assume you’re a man at heart — let’s assume that a man
would know how not to mistake tears
for a reason to avoid sending other folks
out to kill or be killed.
what would it take to get you to cry in public
over everything you knew that got us here?
what would it take to get you to agree
to cry injustice where none is admitted?

it will take more than a moon or two
before we give up waiting for an answer.

EDIT: I DO NOT REMEMBER WRITING THIS POEM.