Not a govt but a production. Not a president but a tv host. Not a citizen but a contestant. Not an electorate but an audience. Step right up. Spin the wheel. Not a chance. Art of the deal. Shuffled backstage. No lifelines here. Complaints unheard. Mics off. Claw one another. It’s never your fault.

Bring and bounce, rays of sunlight into these eyes; they’ve been shut tight for a long time. Placidly void, contentedly, empty shelter, in place away, from the cruelty of reality.