I’ve been to a cuppla business meetings
With this guy who speaks for the other team
Kinda surreal anatomy
Where there should be ears
Two tiny electric motors
One attached
To the north lip
One to the south
With so many opinions to express
He’d developed circular breathing
Like a sax player
Like Charlie Parker did, and Roland Kirk did
He talked much of strategy
And nothing of empathy
The two dimes that were his eyes
Told us that no one was listening
Nor ever had.
Greg Spiro’s poems have appeared in Granta and Tribune.
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This article appears in the 08 Mar 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The return of al-Qaeda