The President Speaks Out on the Issues
It's Sunday, and the president has finished his milk.
"Let out more line!" he hollers. A screen door bangs.
It is another day, and the president has three shoes.
He thinks the closet is like his mother, hiding in plain sight.
The president feeds on charred animals, chewing their little ears.
It's Tuesday twice in a row in the unemployment line.
"I'm the president," says the president.
"I'll break every mirror in the garsh darn place."
It is a time of trials, and the president is selling soap.
Lie soap. Carefully he washes out his mouth.
"War is our only road to peace," says the president
to his necktie and gloves. The wind smells of oily birds.
"Murderers should be excruciated," he tells his dog,
Spot, "so we can sleep safely in our boats."
It is Thursday again, and the president completes his favorite
Norman Rockwell puzzle on national television.
"See what can be done if we work together," says the president,
who evaporates below the waist and discusses the beauty of stumps.
"This is a great day, eh spot?" says Spot.
"We all love you for that."
-- Christopher Howell, appeared in Gettysburg Review