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poetry President

New England poet Janice Miller Potter reminds us of the social costs of having a “president of lies,” a “president of shamelessness.”

President

By Janice Miller Potter

The president of lies preens

loyalty to his person

the president of shamelessness

gorges on words

stuffing meaning down a capacious maw

like kindling to a furnace

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burning truth from the architecture

of our common language

even the word liar

has lost repulsiveness for loyalists

the rest of us worn down

by daily assaults are

mesmerized by the chaos of conflicts

that comb the highways of his orange-crush hair

while the president of lies

shamelessly grabs

the private parts of women

the spines of men

the spoils of public office

the rule of law

the emoluments outlawed

the weak consciences of politicians

the public eye

the power to erode and destroy

women     men     our cherished ideals

earth     water     fire     air

even the ghostly elephants of Africa

Janice Miller Potter grew up in western Pennsylvania, but she has lived in New England for most of her life.  She is the author of three poetry collections:  Thoreau’s Umbrella (Fomite, 2019), Meanwell (Fomite, 2012), and Psalms in Time (Finishing Line, 2008).  Her poems have also appeared in various journals and anthologies, including Poet Lore, Bloodroot, J Journal, The Fourth River, and most recently among the pandemic poems in Verse-Virtual.  She lives in Cornwall, Vermont.