[Glenn Wright]

Version 2
An Appeal for Help

I’ve been around, off and on, for twenty-five centuries
My statue was built of papier-mâché in Tiananmen Square
and stood for less than a week. My sister’s statue is in New York.
She used to welcome the tempest-tost. Now she’s retired.
We are not at all alike. Even tyrants love her.
When they’re not French kissing Bibles or groping flags,
they’re trying to get to third base with her.
They know better than to try that with me.

The WaPo masthead says I’m doomed to die in darkness,
but it’s a lie. I’m dying right now in broad daylight.
You can watch them frogmarch me to my cross
and hang me up at high noon for everyone to see,
just like Jesus. But unlike Jesus, I can’t fix dead.
So save me. Don’t hold your breath hoping for a resurrection.
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Edits:
Title: Democracy > A Plea for Help > An Appeal for Help
S1L1: I’m twenty-five centuries old, more fragile than parchment, > I’ve been around, off and on, for twenty-five centuries.


Version 1
Democracy

I’m twenty-five centuries old,
more fragile than a sheet of ancient parchment.
My statue was built of papier-mâché
and stood in Tiananmen Square for less than a week.
My sister has her statue in New York,
colossal, made of green copper.
She used to welcome the tempest-tost. Now she’s retired.

People sometimes confuse us, but we are not at all alike.
Even tyrants love Liberty. When they’re not French kissing Bibles
or groping flags, they’re trying to get to third base with her.
Tyrants don’t dare to try that shit with me.
I think she holds that torch and wears that sunbeam tiara
just to piss me off because I’m doomed to die in darkness.
So says the oracle on the WaPo masthead.

But it’s a lie. They won’t secretly bury me alive.
I’m dying right now, in broad daylight.
On your phone, computer, or television,
you can watch them frogmarch me to my cross
and hang me up at high noon for everyone to see,
like Jesus. But unlike Jesus, I can’t fix dead.
So save me. Don’t hold your breath hoping for a resurrection.