Here, where the people chiefly are resigned 
To doubting all the words their leaders use 
(Mass-graves that hold forgotten hopes), they find

Loss interposed between them and the light, 
Immense and still, unshaken by the wind. 
A statesman, now turned conjuror, twirls a bright

Tangle of ribbons from an empty hat: 
Official commentators watch the rite, 
Haruspicating thus the drift of state.

The serpent hangs with fork-tongued malediction 
Over their cities. Radio towers create 
Within a Cyclopean eye’s constriction