totalitarianism
where the bones of my legs, flesh of my buttocks touch the earth
i claim myself
where the blood slows to a tingle in my groin, my fingers
i recognise myself
where warm trembling spins in my throat, my heart, my belly
i identify myself
where a mad bull shatters the china of my mind
i reassure myself
such wealth i have
this empire of mine amuses itself in revolt, in anarchy
the natives are always malcontent
even though i offer them community, identity, idealism
they just want to be left to their own devices
but i must redeem them
from their primitive abandon
or become as poor, as aimless as they
1992