Monday, April 20, 2020

Our Secret Winner’s Remorse

Oh, how royally grand the celebration
for George the general’s marshaling sensation
and the British abrogation. Oh, how quietly grand
our bankers’ realization they’d won the golden scepter
with George the king’s cessation.

Oh, how sadly odd our grieving fascination
with Diana’s death and implications,
and how frankly queer the enchantment we allow
for every scrap of titillation
from royal family intimations.

Oh oh oh, and how we betray our secret inclination,
shakily insisting irony in Plath’s daddy allegations,
denouncing loudly fascist emanations
lest sheathed in velvet masquerations--
we let the White House rule our nation.

                                                                                                                                           m.d. paust