are chomping caviar, sipping champagne,
and growing blisters rubbing elbows here
in the plush Istanbul Ritz-Carlton’s main
ballroom. Folks keep bending Don Rumsfeld’s ear,
offering support: “You got a bad rap
on Iraq, D.R.,” mumbles Goldman Sach’s
exec. “Good show,” Bank of England’s head chap
adds, “closing in on world order. Relax,
I’ll refill your glass.” “You’ve helped our corrupt
effort to rule global markets,” the Czar
of Pharmaceutics smiles. I interrupt,
“Why aren’t China and Russia here?” They snarl.
“Europe and U.S. only!” Rumsfeld shouts.
“Be gone, Satan!” Two guards escort me out.
Roger Armbrust
June 22, 2007
