Weekly poem on Trump Presidency




I was on a subway once when a man started peeing. 
He’d tried to piss between the cars but the door was
locked so he turned to a corner and was as private
as he could be.  His clothes suggested that he slept
out of doors.  It was rush hour and the car was full
of people whose clothes suggested that they had
deep, fragrant closets.  There was a sudden under-
ground movement, the shuffling of suits in a deck. 
Presto! the car became half-empty and twice as
full, the horror of many opposing the need of one
across an invisible line that the fluid, as long as
we kept going faster and faster, couldn’t reach.


Dore Kiesselbach has published two books in the Pitt Poetry Series, Albatross (2017) and Salt Pier (2012).  His honors include the Agnes Lynch Starrett Prize, the Poetry Society of America’s Robert H. Winner Memorial Award and Britain’s Bridport Prize in poetry.  Journals that have published his work include AgniFieldPlumePoetry and Poetry Review.


illustration:  anna_croc01

illustration: anna_croc01