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

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