by Rochelle Ratner
Mr. Bush doesn't find out about this until he reads it in the
paper. Damn aides must be holding out on him again. They
always do this as elections near. But it says right here in
the Washington Post that the mayor sent out New Year
cards with the letter W in them, and now he faces six
months in jail. Mr. Bush decides he ought to call him.
Maybe invite him to dinner at the White House. Is he in
Kurdia? Kurda? He really ought to be better informed
on foreign affairs. But who ever heard of a language with
no W? When he first took office a man in New York had a
vanity license plate that was just W and they said he
couldn't renew it. Been driving with it for years, and boy,
was he upset. He doodles a W on the pad before him, then
turns it over to form an M. There's no god damned way to
please everyone.
Rochelle Ratner's latest poetry books include Balancing Acts (Marsh Hawk Press, 2006), Beggars at the Wall (Ikon, 2006) and House and Home (Marsh Hawk Press, 2003). She is the author of fifteen previous poetry collections and two novels (Bobby’s Girl and The Lion’s Share) both published by Coffee House Press). More information and links to her writing on the Internet can be found on her homepage.
