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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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