Election

Your teachings have made you calm,
Whenever we talk of politics
You talk of dead animals.
How the oracles split frogs
To wheedle out bad news
And watched the olive sky for birds
To forecast the crop yields
And the warring of islands.

That night the talking persisted
Across the extended networks,
Heavy lidded men heaving
Their solemn heads till dawn,
When, finally we slept,
The television still blaring
The winds of change
Sticking tired looks to our faces.

The following morning
Who knew what it all meant?
When walking out at noon
The glistening road
In the horrendous sun
Became an operating table
Of obsolete animals,
Their most intimate entrails
Ugly truths still to come.