Peace Deals

A poem.

Norton Camilo Maza Rubillo, La Caída del Orden, 2007.
Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Santiago, Chile.

Diplomats revise the same sentence,
moving a comma between Tehran and Washington.
The republic that wants to arrange the world
tries quietly to find the exit from its own debris.

The deal is always almost signed,
always tomorrow, always after one more call.

In Santiago, evening leans on the railings.
A man on a balcony shakes dead leaves
from a pot that has survived another season;
they fall without argument to the street below.

On the grass, a black dog runs in widening circles,
certain that joy requires no treaty,
while its owner watches the shadows lengthen
and says nothing at all.

Inside a café, over cups gone cold,
a man sings Victor Jara softly:
…marchemos juntos al porvenir….
The song has outlived generals and economists;
it knows how history stumbles forward.

Somewhere negotiators are still negotiating,
each side searching for a victory small enough
for the other to bear.

Night gathers over the Cordillera de los Andes.
The dog slows. The singer reaches the final verse.
…para los que no han nacido…
The plant breathes.

The wind continues its patient work
among the nations.

Vijay Prashad
Santiago, Chile.
13 June 2026