April 26,’18


they call it Foggy Bottom,
but is the fog at the bottom?
or is it at the top?

they play chess there
but don’t seem to know what move to make,
or what strategies to plan.

can anyone explain the revolving door, the
labyrinth where bureaucrats come and go
and shuffle papers until they can retire?

I think there used to be statesmen there
perhaps they all escaped from the swamp.


How can I listen to such music sweet?
It washes through my soul’s dark night of woe
and goes no faster than my heart can beat.
As it decreases to a passage slow
I close my eyes and feel the rising pain
which none but music’s power can summon here.
The passion of my heart has dormant lain
but now evokes a memory of fear.
I feel a salty tear upon my face
while litanies of my life will still recite
omissions and my failure to embrace
the future while the past has shaped my sight.
Play on, oh harmonies deep within my soul;
consume, and my regretful mind console.


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