Portside

Bad Election

By Jennifer Michael Hecht

They were the worst until much worse came.
To get high they smoked girls fed fury for days.
Things repeat, but they are not the same.

Blood was bad, here comes boiling rain.
He sculpts his hair with the ribs of boys.
They were the worst until much worse came.

They butchered days, then this thief came,
gilding his excrement and lying about rain.
Thug. It repeats. It's the ever in never again.

Now old vile villains look basically sane.
Let's take a break. Rest here in stanza four.
They were the worst until these villains came.

Howl, howl, howl, said Lear to Cordelia, too late.
Growl down greed and his henchdogs of hate.
They were the worst, then the real worse came.
Things repeat, but they are not the same.

[Jennifer Michael Hecht is a poet and historian. Her most recent poetry book is Who Said (Copper Canyon), and her prose books include Doubt: A History (Harper), a history of unbelief all over the world throughout time, and Stay (Yale), a history of suicide and the arguments against it. She's now writing "The Wonder Paradox," a prose book on poetry.]

For more, see https://jennifer-hecht.squarespace.com/