Politics

I heard you this weekend
your voice chattering from another table
You were from another country, clearly.
You sounded so civil this time.
A mind to match the voice.
Lovely, delicate,
intelligent.

I couldn't make out what you were saying,
but it sounded agreeable.

Just 4 weeks ago you were screaming at me
it was a drive-by, literally
from your car window
a cry from the bowels of humanity.
You didn't care for what I did that day
in traffic,
but mostly you didn't care
for my humanity.
The kind implied by the bold stenciled letters
of an outdated bumper sticker.
The fatness of your voice
echoed for a second or two,
its power waning as you fled.

I must admit both times
you left an impression.
I remember when I didn't care about you
and you were something to ignore.
Life was lighter then.
When I couldn't hear the thunder
and I couldn't read the dark subtext
behind your beauty
behind your mirror
behind your closet door,
Dorian Gray.