Strangely unpalatable to consider I know
Dear reader,
And my many fans
Who might feel anxious, disturbed
Or angry like a mob
That I could be wrong
I admit

Knowing you remember my very first poem
Posted here way back when
Where I more than suggested
Poetry was powerless, worthless, effete
I might have said:
“Prose is to poetry as great sex is to thinking about masturbating”
Sorry I misled you

Stalin was a poet esteemed
Mao and Mussolini wrote many
People read them
And believed

We tyrants are all romantics
Blood lust power cash
Death is cool, too
Someone else’s – wheels need grease
We deign to celebrate your sacrifice
But what have you done for us today?

So we
Even accidentally
Might change the world
Thus I’ll begin as I ended last year
“Be careful”