The Politician

I feel lost.

like a
candidate
in a wave
of serial
mistrust;

I am the loser.

And it is not
enough
to know
I was not
chosen,
but also
to know
who
got it–
so
I can
have
the
pleasure
of publicly
addressing
the
un-
washed
public
without
wrath,
without
sudden
movements
or
exhibiting
gross
mistrust,

without
showing
myself
to be
someone
who is,
ultimately,
unbalanced;

that
my
happiness
is,
was,
and
should
never
have
been
riding
on
this
process.

I did not lose
because
I was
ill-
equipped;

I simply
raised an issue
and it was
not
the one
the voters
wanted;

most will
say:

‘It is not
who I take
to heart
but who I take
to bed
that gets
my credit’

and that
leaves
me sad.

or
they
will choose
a blind thrill
over a
firm
understanding,
saying

‘I cannot
listen
to this one-
he talks
about my life
like he
knows it–
I will
pretend
not
to see
him.

I will
choose
the one
who seems
more
passionate‘
(which is
to say,
the one
who will
vindicate
my
damage)–

I understand
how this
system
is.

I wish
I had
the courage
not to
run again,
but I
feel
I am
fated
to
become
a public
servant;
fated
to keep
racing
and never
finish;
fated
to
run
as if
there were
a chance
of winning

(as if
winning
really
represented
a
step
towards
anything.)