OVERHEARD IN HUNGARY, 2008
It was better before the revolution.
We had jobs, houses, food, didn’t need
to think much. In fact, thinking was banned
beyond small daily decisions—
shall it be cabbage or potatoes,
potatoes or cabbage?
Rocked in steel cradles that stanched
our crying before it began
we knew exactly what to do: a few
hosannahs and hymns to satisfy
our stiffly uniformed guards,
If restless we could take the cure
in spas vast as Roman circuses,
cared for by nurses with lions’ claws.