“When the people are not free they are
no longer people, they are objects.”
…………………………………—Roshi Bob
Nationalist Opera
It was a party
Built for the miniscule elite
Lost among acres of scuffed marble, wanderers
Newspapers & schoolwork
People knew
To speak in surreal, mechanical hyperbole
Government, of course
Monuments, behemoths
Of relative luxury
I know what you want to ask
I want to take the truth to the world
Down in the city, loudspeakers
Disappearing into a hidden gulag
Centuries ago
The monks appeared
Every morning in the lobbies or our hotels
A minder was beside them
The monks followed us out into the parking lot
by Amanda Calderon
from Poetry, July/August 2014
pub: Poetry Foundation