September 4th, 2010


On a Mogul

Sit at large desks, drink coffee, sometimes tea
and order the affairs of several states.
Have someone claim a statesman masturbates
looking at sheep. Then confidentially

whisper for war. In six months it will start
and in some other country children die.
Have the Pope call for peace. Get him to cry
in prime time. Then go jogging for your heart

may be unhealthy. Train a favourite sun.
He'll break your enemies who dare survive.
The world burns, states collapse. Your papers thrive
on blood and flame and chaos. Leave undone

what duty, justice might demand. Hard cash
is all you'll leave behind. The rest is ash.