A Fight To The Death

    In the high grass, in the gathering dark, the president of the United States hears footsteps slowly draw near. The footprints stop and a voice says, “So we meet at last.”
   
“Putin?”
   
“So it is,” Putin smiles, “and I understand it is to the death.”
   
“Pistols, swords, bare knuckles? What are the rules?”
   
“I know of one rule only,” Putin laughs, “and that rule is there are no rules.”
   
A voice whispers in the president’s ear. “You have the power.”
   
“What power?” Obama cries. “If I have any power I don’t know how to use it!”
   
“You have to imagine it,” the voice says.
   
“I’m going to imagine myself back in Washington, sound asleep. Where am I?”
   
“You are on the surface of the static universe.”
   
“GODDAMIT, NO I’M NOT!” Obama screams. “I’M IN HIP HIGH GRASS AND PUTIN IS COMING FOR ME!”
   
“An illusion,” the voice soothes. “Nothing exists until someone imagines it. You imagined a Putin and so he is real.”
  
“Then if I unimagined him he will disappear?”
   
“You cannot unimagine him.”
Alone in the dark, the rustling grass ever nearer, the voice inside him says softly,

“Imagine the Devil, the Devil exists
Imagine a nuked up Iran
Imagine Obama who smiles and insists
That Putin is no Genghis Khan
That all Putin wants is a new place to start
A new place where he can be Czar
The one thing that Putin holds close to his heart
Rebuilding the USSR
But why does he threaten, why is he so gruff?
Why is it he threatens you harm?
He’s building new nukes and new 
bombers and stuff
Despite all your efforts and charm
To show him that you are two knights hand in hand
In thinking that force has no place
In modern day statecraft where life is too bland
For Reagan and Bush’s arms race
And now he’s upon you, the rustling has stopped
His breathing can softly be heard
Your world view is small, the big picture is cropped
He’s waiting for your final word
A fight to the death or submission complete
A free hand to do as he please
The cold war is on and it’s not a repeat
You’ll not have a Reagan reprise
Fight him you must for it is war to the death
But I see that you have cast your lot
For in fear you’ll continue until your last breath
To think Genghis Khan he is not”

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