Weekly poem on Trump Presidency
How come your face introduces your intentions? How come
this black slipstream of erotica? Why does the love saint only
come round when it’s cold? How come your gentile schlick
becomes the unlikely catechism of another continent? Do you
want smokey in the pokey? These questions seem to get more
sincere. Want me to lance her goiter on your behalf? Can you
recite the nonce of Godwin’s Law? Have you ever done a
dirty cowboy at a public pool? Do you prefer buffalo, bermuda,
or fescue style growth? How come you have such striking
girlpains? This isn’t what I expected from a place like this.
Don’t you wish you were born a matador with a pocketful
of Bitcoin? Don’t you wish your girlfriend was as clickbait
as mine? How come she paints wadjets on her eyes this week?
Why are you kissing less spinsters these days? How come you
only ponce in mandrakes now? Do you refuse to read the Book
of Virtues & Losses? How come you don’t wear a pinky ring?
Why won’t you reach out & pet this python? There are some
questions I’d like to ask you—How come you’re afraid to
swallow it? How come you only build bridges while burning
down others? How come you never let it be? Why don’t you
come over here & take your tiny fingers out of your ears?
Dave Harrity’s most recent books are These Intricacies (Cascade Books, 2015) and Our Father in the Year of the Wolf (Word Farm, 2016). The recipient of an Emerging Artist Award from the Kentucky Arts Council, a chair person for the Association for Theopoetics Research and Exploration, and a William Alexander II and Lisa Percy Fellowship recipient from the Rivendell Writers’ Colony, he lives in Louisville, Kentucky, with his wife and children.