Hilarious mendacities are a god’s
false sinews of immortality

Condensed concentrations—love
is here for you if you grasp it

Gramps spoke with his fists because
the mean Passaic streets so “learned him”

In a party run by sociopaths and opportunists—
you’ll be a pawn, a sad sack member of our team

Only the leader is ever complete and you, the
loyalist pure of heart, are alone without deceit

When he delights brash horses and young
children, your charismatic leader is a god

Sometimes our people won’t respond
without money— the sinew of his power,

the meat of the nut—ulcerated
skin hidden beneath thin tissue

It’s significant but is it true?
We cling to the fitful fantastic

In the blistering process of renewals and
regeneration all our empires must fall

Caesar knows the mob is gullible—
giant brutes or malevolent children

are made great in the excess of his power
Even the trees, he thought, applaud me

We are ruled by a mob and remain
manipulated by political hacks

Caesar didn’t seem obsessed when after
he successfully hid his obsessions

Power is realized only in action—
If it erupts it’s there

All power redounds in a lonely 
sacred fickle shroud of immortality

A gull that man, a sucker—
his stern, irrational prejudices grate

Espionage and sabotage are
the weapons of his weakness

The emanation of starlight and
heat is the essential fuse of all power

Human nature invokes inequality
and as I get older I heartily plead

for that which makes it, dissipates
it, emanates it like the solarizing

of the human, the humanization of
the sun where all of our lives emanate

-March 7, 2020-