Tyrant Love


Up the revolution, Brother!

The tyrant is gone

she left the country with our national treasury

in a briefcase laid across her famous thighs.

A flawless escape

we never knew till far too late.


"Cruel dictator!"

we cried

vandalized her palace

shaking in furious mob orgasm

a revisionist frenzy

we tore through streets shattering statues

erasing her features with spraypaint slogans

hastily composed.


While a radical element takes up forsaken reign

our solid citizens

bewildered by loss

fearing absence of her law

vainly await trains she kept on time.


As the executions begin

furtive prayers go forth in supplication

come back tyrant

come love

we will support a coup détat.

tyrant love

An American In India At Christmas