Several belated sonnets. Tony Snow took several weeks to formulate due both to the complexity of his situation and a very busy summer.

Jesse Helms' funeral occurred in the same news cycle as Jesse Jackson's intemperate comments toward Sen. Obama. The conjunction of these two personalities prompted a reflection.

For Tony

By all accounts a family man, a grac-
ious and authentic gentleman, the real
deal, as they used to say. You bravely faced
your cruel fate with dignity; your zeal
for life was evident to all. And now
perhaps, you know the final mys-
tery, but we are left to wonder how
a man so clearly gifted could dismiss
the obvious conclusion that the men
you served are blatant criminals whose sordid
deeds cry out for recompense. Pray, when
will they be served? Will Justice be aborted?
Or will they, in guilt-laden years to come,
Confess, perhaps, you were the lucky one?

Jesse and Jesse

Belated cogitations now on some
good ol’ boys: Jesse Helms, the last
unreconstructed yellow dog, now come
to the final vote—the measure passed.
And then disturbing words from quite another
distant Dixie son: poisoned wishes
heard from Jesse Jackson towards a brother.
(An old campaigner caught before by glitches.)
This odd conjunction of old moralizers,
“Traditionalist” and spokesman for Black rage,
Twin sons, bedfellows, victims, victimizers,
Flashbacks from another graceless age.
Regard these men and contemplate this fancy:
Which is worse – death or irrelevancy?