Jan 302015
 
 
The taunt that tugged the president
Pulled havoc down, that tagged him weak
Pinched flinches from his sensitive eyes.
Tall from the podium he kept speaking.
No silence broke the whispering bones
Buried hushed beneath the token words;  
Ministers and senators kept their quarrels home;
Itching dissent slept like a covered bird.

Tall from the podium he kept speaking.

What was told was not what there was to tell.
No drone roamed, no attack tank rolled.
Vanished as ashes were Crimea's liberties,
Small crosses sucked beneath the sea's black hatch.
Torn corners of his treaties rubbled to rounded,
Shredded edited on the contested ground;
The old ordered world's illusions, ruined, fell
Dead as kites, as needles from their imagined sky.

Tall from the podium he kept speaking.

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