Firstly, Tahrir Square
Should be named Tahrir Circle.
No more hard edges
No more corners to cut
No rigid boxes –
Just the smooth, all-encompassing
Circle of democracy.
Soon, though, the people will realize
That flying is easy
Compared to landing.
Peace is, at best, an annual plant.
And this might be the time
To bring up Nietzsche –
And observe the hand
That will kill with kindness
Just as easily as with a shovel.
Pick a color, say, red as asphalt,
And it will be someone’s favorite.
They know this in countries
Where they treat octagonal stop signs
Than citizens living on the street.
Secondly, who knows?
You don’t need a military man
To know which way the gun blows.
This might be the time for Mr. Blaine
To come home. This could be the end
Of a beautiful friendship.