On that sunny day in January
the imperial proclamations came down
from on high like the pitiful croaking
of a doomed and flightless bird
spreading their grandeur throughout the brittle lands
of the Republic on contagious gusts of wind
like sneezes emanating from the Capitol.
The illustrious servants of the body politic gathered
and expounded their collective snores
while the flags of the nationstate flapped in the breeze
like worn-out underwear drying on a clothesline.
All flights were grounded and the skyscrapers
stopped scraping in the poisonous fog
as peoples’ feet stuck to chewing gum
on cold and crumbling pavements.
When the wars came the most fanatic and gullible
among us volunteered to fight while the rest
stood around hungry with outstretched hands
and drooping mouths like a swarm of pecking pigeons.
Years later, after the miasma finally began to lift
we looked up into the night sky and saw the faint
flickering of once-mighty supernovas
heard the unintelligible whispers of the big bang
and watched the moon orbiting the earth
like an annoying fly.