NO CONFIDENCE

I swear I met him.

A tall man, with a white wig

He had an overbite;

His stance erect.

The curtain hit his back.

His booted feet shuffled.

I heard him mumble,

Then turn and exit.

I asked him for the form.

He looked down at me,

And shook his head,

His hand outstretched.

I said: "this won't work, sir.

There are no marks here,

No decisions indicated,

Want to try again?"

"No, that's my vote," he said

No vote. . . there's no one

Who understands it anymore

What we wrote back then."

"There's no more perfect union,

no more domestic tranquility.

I can't pick from whom is offered

No way to know their soul."

You should have a

No Confidence machine here

To send a message to them.

Tell them George said so."

He turned his weathered shoulders

Toward the door and looked around;

His brow furrowed, his head low,

And touched the flag as he left.