When you accepted this one horror as good
a small leak in your splendid ship
caused you to drown
and still you think you are sailing
with seaweed around your neck
and gray, bloated face, defending
the horror you accepted—the leak
you should have repaired
is now what you feel and speak.
Your life poisoned by one idea
which proudly got through.
Moving away from me at the speed of light,
a beautiful political cult got you.