For he had been fed with too many appearances,
Panning cameras, new documentaries
Of old truths.
It was stated that argument
Raised the roof, yet placing
His hands
Upon the
Cold hard surface
Feeling the sentiment, suddenly worthless.
Below, they police his motives
Whether he is to fall or to threaten
To whom does he beckon
As he screams at the wall?
For he sees the electric
Of life hooked up to
board
And not bodies but energy
And not love but law -
The whites of his eyes haunted
As he looks without seeing
For is this the perspective of
Old new politicians
Or this an exhibition
Of what we are missing?
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