Poetry

Reuters photo

By

Alejandro Escudé

The Press Room

To start an empire, you need your own sun.

A pyramid. You need lots and lots of stone,

and you need a vessel to put your stories into.

You need a reason to condemn the people

who would write other stories. In the room

full of journalists, heads bowed like martyrs,

you renounce fact and start again. You age

the children against empiricism, and you turn

a blue bird into a hate symbol, your dictums

birdsongs. Your branch a wreck in the white

trees, but the flag stays the flag. The death-

people with beady eyes ignite the gaslight.

Alejandro Escudé

Alejandro Escudé’s first book of poems, My Earthbound Eye, was published in September 2013. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing from UC Davis and teaches English. Originally from Argentina, Alejandro lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two children.