I dreamt the election was a runoff
Between two moderates
In the most democratic country in
The Americas,
A model kit for the world
Dipped in honey & salt,
The book in my hands with a page marked
With a strange rust fingerprint
Declaring that politicians’ sole duty is to
Disagree with politicians on salient points,
That under their robes
Are mirrors without bones,
Dust on chrome, &
I was trapped in-
Side my tongue,
Nothing outside the tongue itself—
Then I awoke in
South America
5,000 miles from
Home
Craving another
Americano
For the craven
American
I am
Feeling
Killed off
For having exercised rights
Loosely
Believing we were riding the winning tide
Like a translator faced against ice-cold text,
Blue in the face,
The weight of every ghost
Left behind.