MYANMAR (BURMA) 2002
Black Mercedes limos
With tinted glass
Emerge from the night
Like a line of hearses
Waved to their positions
By white-gloved
Gun-toting
Guards
Their faces
Carved from teak
The cars
Discharge their riders
Sarong-clad
Heavy men
Broad of shoulder
And large of belly
Each step they take
Echoes their power
Despite the incongruous
Little leather thongs
On their feet
toenails immaculately clipped
of course
I watch this procession
Of generals
With unease
Unable to completely quell
The flutterings of fear
But you, oblivious still
Cry out in the night
“bye bye”
And several of these mighty men
Turn their heads to stare at you
Hard mouths ready to bark
An order
But disarmed by your little-girl giggle
One by one
They somehow manage
To crack
A smile
