The perfect voter has a smile but no eyes, br maybe not even a nose or hair on his or her toes, br maybe not even a single sperm cell, ovum, little paramecium. br Politics is a slug copulating in a Poughkeepsie garden. br Politics is a grain of rice stuck in the mouth br of a king. I voted for a clump of cells, br anything to believe in, true as rain, sure as red wheat. br I carried my ballots around like smokes, pondered big questions, br resources and need, stars and planets, prehistoric br languages. I sat on Alice's mushroom in Central Park, br smoked longingly in the direction of the mayor's mansion. br Someday I won't politic anymore, my big heart will stop br loving America and I'll leave her as easy as a marriage, br splitting our assets, hoping to get the advantage br before the other side yells: Wow! America, br Vespucci's first name and home of free and brave, Te amo.