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poetry 2020

2020, the year, the eyesight, the zeroes, so the Mississippi poet Philip Kolin greets the new decade, calling up the failures of Trumpism in his own words.

2020

By Philip C. Kolin

This is a year of pathologies.

Sloganed time is trying to outlast itself.
But it can only descend into so-so mendacity.

A blond snake swallowing
its own head will always mistake
it for a tale. It was a perfect call.

The year is suffering from double vision, too.
Obstructions, obstructions everywhere.
But wearing bifocals or close reading glasses
has become a high misdemeanor.

Unfriendly judges in black robes
are being defrocked and deported
to Indiana.

This is also the year of emptiness
whether counted in halves
or in toto. There was no collusion,
No collusion.

A new theology of Manichaeanism is sweeping
through the country-- Red Patriot Ball Caps vs
Do Nothings. But ciphering the other is
incompatible with metanoia. Prophecies
are handed out at every rally.
The country's chef menteur autographs Bibles there.

The stars, usually tough, weep for the flag they are on.

Philip C. Kolin, Distinguished Professor of English Emeritus and Editor Emeritus of the Southern Quarterly at the Univ. of Southern Mississippi, has published nine collections of poems, among them Emmett Till in Different States and Reaching Forever: Poems.

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