It is the day when we recognize ...

Some folks wear a disguise ...

And so we attempt to pull back the hood

Revealing the face we may not've understood



As we choose with our eyes and our hands

To select one from each column who stands

Along the edge of the roadway we travel

Avoiding both the hot tarmac and gravel



... The ones who sit so firmly in our very corner

With professions of ideas and style which border

Upon our own idealistic evocations of perfection

Knowing deep down it's only our introspection



For every one of "them" is moldable with the wind

Depending entirely on which way the money rolls in ...



- Tristram



(c) Christopher W. Thomas

2:35pm Election Day 1998