Ivan Dobnik - Vilenica

244 · Tomasz Różycki
Her Majesty’s Fleet
I played alone against my own computer.
I was the king of some poor country stuck
in Central Europe that became a world
power because of my sound politics
and trade, strong army and economy.
I never fought a war, except to preempt
enemy aggression or fight the weak,
since there were nations that were badly run.
I counted on the government, the courts
enforcing laws, the navy, colonies.
I was revered in diplomatic circles
and among my serfs. I never sentenced
without reason, except for public enemies:
deserters, poets, traitors, profiteers.
The Volcano
Sitting and watching planes wage war against
the towers, martyrs wage their holy war
against commuter trains and gyms, against
children. Then lying down to watch the flood
in live installments, using the remote
to put the world in order, browsing, trying
to dodge the murderer, the shark, learning
results from viewer surveys on the death penalty.
Napping, taking in the great
pawning of god. And seeing everyone
so tiny and cartoonish, how they fall,
get up, and fall again. Then turning off
the sound and picture, turning off my breath,
my heart would not turn off, I fell, I fell.