06.21.2019
Weekly poem on Trump Presidency

 

RALPH JAMES SAVARESE

Go To Hell, Robert Mueller

He looks for evidence
of Russian influence
on my poetry. 

He says that Pushkin,
Turgenev, and
Chekhov  

ran a web brigade—
a troll farm—in
St. Petersburg. 

That they turned America
toward my work
unnaturally. 

I’ve never met these men.
I don’t even read
poetry; I just  

write it. My hands are
normal hands.
The five 

fingers represent
the five key
factors

 every entrepreneur
dreaming of
success 

must master. How many
times do I have to
say it? No 

collusion! None. Nada.
And the Steele
Dossier, 

that fake news filth?
It puts me in bed
with Anna 

Akhmatova. Never heard
of her. Never been
to Moscow. 

Never been to grief. Wild
honey smells
of
freedom 

The dust—of sunlight
The mouth of a
young girl, 

like a violet  But gold—
smells of nothing.
What the hell 

does that mean? Gold
smells of power!
It’s perfect  

on a toilet seat. Even
better on a cock
ring.

I fired the Poet General
because he wouldn’t
rhyme.  

The guy’s writing sucks.
He wasn’t up to
the job,  

OK? I did everyone a
favor. My primary
talent, which  

isn’t a crime—in fact,
it’s perfectly
legal—is  

the obstruction of hope,
the obstruction of
beauty. 

—-

Note: the lines by Trump appear in The Beautiful Poetry of Donald Trump by Rob Sears. Sears has re-presented the President’s many utterances as poetry.

—-

Ralph James Savarese is the author of two books of creative nonfiction, Reasonable People and See It Feelingly. He teaches American literature and creative writing at Grinnell College in Iowa. His poems have appeared in American Poetry Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Rattle, Seneca Review, Sewanee Review, and Southwest Review, among other places.