Each Morning the President

Each Morning the President
Each morning the president finds more names written on his wall. He can no longer count them all. When he washes his face and hands, the porcelain stand runs with blood. For breakfast, he is given a child�s severed limb, still warm. He tries to smile, but cannot speak. Eat, my friend. Eat. One by one, the jackals wander in. Mr. President, we need more men. Eat, my friend. Eat. The president begins, but the tender limb grows and grows. Eat, my friend. Eat. *April 20, 2006* Previous Entry Next Entry Return to Songs and Letters About the Author	Main Page Author�s Note Background Notebook A Listening Thing Among the Living No Time to Cut My Hair One Hand Clapping Songs and Letters Collected Poems Early Short Stories Armenian Translations Interviews News and Reviews Highly Recommended Let�s Eat Favorite Books & Authors Useless Information Conversation E-mail & Parting Thoughts Flippantly Answered Questions
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