the crowd begins as a single breath
then becomes many mouths
each convinced of its own wind
a man steps forward
not taller than the rest
only louder
he says I know what’s best
and the crowd
relieved of thinking
nods
this is how arrogance wears a uniform
not stitched with gold
but with agreement
later at home
he speaks the same way
to the mirror
to the woman at the table
to the quiet in his chest
his voice has learned to occupy space
as though space owed him
politics is only the stage extension
of the same small theatre
we build inside our skulls
the banners
the decrees
the votes
merely furniture
he cannot see
that his convictions
are only the long shadow of his need
to not be uncertain
that nations and egos
share the same hunger
to be right forever
and when the shouting stops
both kinds of arrogance
stand blinking in the silence
startled
to discover
they are the same man
.
John Mingay
Picture Rupert Loydell
.