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Clyde Kessler’s Poetic Diplomacy

Clyde Kessler’s Poetic Diplomacy

EMBASSY I am teaching a few diplomats about some skeletons that keep walking with their words that sound like extra ribs squeezing a breeze from a stump. My powerpoint is almost pointless, snitches, flogs, knuckles, slumbers, skulls, during the late morning of being alone with so few. They might soon speak like me, with ghosts, with sunlight turned in a rifle scope, and with a treaty that has no bullets for one hour. This is where I think I am…

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