Weekly poem on Trump Presidency


Despite The Kicking Of Small Animals

our mayor was popular. Not a weakling
like those other mayors, we boasted as he blasted
a puppy through a white husk of moonlight
and into the cornfield. Breath of fresh air, we shouted
as a piglet soared above the pond. 
Real straight shooter; just knows how to get things done.
Squirrel over the football field.
Hedgehog through the stained glass
of St. Joe’s north transept.
Look at that glorious leg! we sang as the landscape
wheezed and shifted all around us.  The flags
over city hall fluttering in a way that reminded us
of some forgotten motif: our mothers dancing, perhaps,
their long dresses whirling in the wind.
And who knew you could launch a lemur
past the street lights, or an entire colony
of auks the length of Main Street?
Pillar of strength.
Wide blue sky. Sweet little lamb.


Matthew Olzmann is the author of two collections of poems, Mezzanines, which was selected for the Kundiman Prize, and Contradictions in the Design, both from Alice James Books.  His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Poetry, Kenyon Review, New England Review, Brevity, Southern Review and elsewhere. Currently, he teaches at Dartmouth College and in the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College.

illustration:  anna_croc01

illustration: anna_croc01