in its highest office?
Havel is up there
—in his castle,

the people call it—
‘living in truth,’
sending his messages

down. Where I am
on the Charles Bridge,
buskers are playing

music to my ears...
St. John of the Guitar,
Lennon the Martyr.

‘Imagine all the people
living life in peace.’
Exercising ‘the power

of the powerless,’
writing in my notebook,
I’m voting with my poem.

At home, in America,
how would Arthur Miller
or Kurt Vonnegut—