The Great Leader, Kim Jong-il
lies in state
in a vacuum sealed casket,
his hair perfect.
Kim Jong-un, the son, bumbles at the microphone
as a myriad of middle age widows swoon into their husbands’ arms
and gnash their teeth.
Now the wind flutters the duct tape
over the veil
on our father’s stone
in the Hebrew Cemetery.
For so many years he was at the helm,
held the keys to the car
the secret magic pen,
smiled for the camera, peering under dark glasses,
with chiseled abs and that wispy mustache by the pool in Florence.
Now we remove the veil
as the world trembles to think of the future in our hands.
Are you ready, Fearless Leader?