Weekly poem on Trump Presidency


Adrian Blevins

Kitchen Confession


If I could put my Trump hate
in the Cuisinart & cut it with
a little basil & dill & my
semi-retired Bush hate & my
hate for war in general & for
when babies die in cribs &
for black lung & other maladies
like the president of that college
in Danville, Virginia who said
tobacco built them a building
so please don’t mock it,
I really would not take out
the old mortars & the pestles
to add to my Trump hate
the crumpled honey of taking
a deep breath or the old-time
molasses honey of waiting
things out or add even just
a tiny dash of the salt of mulling over
how very long the long road is
or throw in some of the basic
redneck nerve you get
from being around things
with a little bite like
the vinegar & the pepper
in the barbecue sauce
because apparently this poem
needs to be about how I like
my Trump hate pinned right here
to my sad American breast
in this sad brooch I made
for the express purpose of opening it
so it could leak down me
like whatever bleach or mercury  
or acid or Hemlock or Cyanide
President Manbaby is trying
to make me & poor America sit in
a huge pool of such as war is peace
& freedom is slavery & ignorance is strength
& all that other anachronistically fascistic
this & that that has got me
all messed up here at the dawn
of what feels like the bona fide
dirtied end of the broken world.


Adrian Blevins’s third book of poems, Appalachians Run Amok, won Two Sylvia Press’s Wilder Prize and will be published this spring. Blevins is also the author of Live from the Homesick Jamboree and The Brass Girl Brouhaha; two chapbooks; and Walk Till the Dogs Get Mean, a co-edited collection of essays by contemporary Appalachian poets and writers. She is the recipient of many awards and honors including a Kate Tufts Discovery Award and a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writers Award. She teaches at Colby College in Waterville, Maine.

"Kitchen Confession" was originally published in Jung Journal.



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