(no subject)

 Sometimes I feel this pull of the commune.

In church; reading Soviet propaganda;

Watching helicopter mothers at the playground.

Feel for Grisha from Manhattan, who came to the grocery store

To kill the man who deserved to die

And then to die himself “on the boardwalk.”

And everyone knows why Grisha came to the grocery store.

And no one is stirred; no one worried for Grisha.

Gotta do what you gotta do.

Grisha who came to the grocery store did not kill anyone

This time.

He prevented a terrorist act instead, or so the madwoman says.

He was threatened with a knife, she says, and as for her,

The terrorist called her a bitch,

But the police had arrived by that time; so she just walked away

Safely.

This is how I feel every time someone is patriotic

With me.

Feel like a bitch who just walks away, because

The police had arrived.

Even though they can’t – the police –

Even know the meaning of ‘bitch’ in Brighton.

They don’t speak Brighton there, at the police.