BIDEN

BIDEN

Last night I dreamt
I was at Kubrick’s
Overlook Hotel

arguing over
who had prior
right to a suite
with your venerable
President, Joe Biden.

Eventually, after much
negotiation, offer
and counter-offer,
we decided to share
for iut was my dream,
my homeground,
I held the moral
highground and he
had his
military-industrial complex
and Israel lobby
to push his case

eventually we
amicably settled
upon equitable time-
share
or splitting the suite
exactly down the middle

with respect for
each other’s human rights,
legal interest and sense
of constitutional democracy

conscious
that conflict nakes no sense
when time edging us
both
   out of the historical frame

death, electoral defeat or
both (for our sins and
wrongly
   lived life)  looming
huge on our respective horizons

which, in his case,
would give me much
     Schadenfreude

see him
swept away divinely defeated
in dubious rapture

me in the Gold Room sipping
some extravagant concoction
mixed by
     some ghost barman
who kmows his stuff

him and me
chatting about the hotel
as a metaphor for history
and what it means
to come
  to consciousnesz in
Kubrick’s mind

make your way
into such a deep, multilayered film