sleep my little romney, sleep
nobody will reach out to you anymore with grubby, importunate fingers
no more rude questions from People Who Don’t Know
no more Leadership
sleep now, just dreamless sleep

sleep safe behind your sturdy wall of money
know only quiet voices and deference
dreamless sleep, because you have dreamed all your dreams up
what is there left for you to dream, my little romney?
will you write a book about the emptyness?
build houses for the ungrateful multitude with your bare hands?
i thought not

where is there for you to rest?
only too-soft beds of needing nothing, wanting nothing, and having nothing left to strive for
an esquisitely upholstered hell

please surprise us, romney, and build a worthy mountain to climb, a noble thought that, succeed or fail
will let us think of you without shaking our heads at the pointlessness of it all