Poem: Epitaph on a Tyrant (Sort Of)
The Atlantic A poem for the end of Donald Trump’s presidency You came in to the sound of oligarch chuckles and bullies at gas stations cracking their knuckles. And now, now that every trigger finger is itchy, you’re going out like an exorcised Liberace. Hectic, comedic, toxic, alone, a flaming meringue on a tide of brimstone. How we adored your escapades. We swallowed your words like ghosts swallowing grenades. The dusty construction guy made common cause with the lawyer licking his paws an...
United States Beloved Of The Baron Lazy Demagogue Dusty Construction Guy Beloved Of The Scullion Mushy Syntax
Source: theatlantic.com