I nearly met a war criminal

It’s the hands. Will that blood
come off? And whose is it?
Try not to shake,
but not to tremble either.

It’s the face. Can you express
revulsion courteously?
Try not to grimace, but
don’t dare to risk a smile.

It’s the chair. Do you sit
where ushered by your host?
Or try to shuffle off
any chance of conversation?

It’s the cameras. There are pictures
that can tell a thousand lies
or make you snap. You can’t
airbrush yourself away.

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