This is what you really wanted
—not just to treat the country
like your privately owned company,
to let the taxpayers pick up your tab,
and pay for your real estate,
to golf when you will at our expense,
to be “in charge” in your mind,
—but to be seen in the world
as some kind of force
to be reckoned with.
So you killed a man.
Not on Fifth Avenue with a gun
in front of your grandiose tower
but by remote control
using someone else’s trigger finger
to keep your tiny hands clean.
You are not strong enough
to shoot someone
face to face,
not even a real enemy.
Like any bully
you take no personal risks,
only prey on those
less able to defend themselves,
on a tiny country that cannot afford
to go to war with us, but must do something
to save face.
In your mind, the voices are always clamoring, clamoring
the truth of who you are:
fool moron imbecile idiot weakling worthless
so you must wave your dick around
when you can find it.
And it cost a man his life.
I have a friend here
whose son is the the Air Force.
He’s young and talented,
learning to be a pilot.
This morning she came by my desk
and whispered We’re going to war.
Pray for my son.
Only your sons would weep over your grave.
But so many of us
would be happy to piss on it.
