(With apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
How do we loathe thee? Let us count the days
Until we frog march your whole depth and breadth and height
Out of the White House, the People’s House, that’s right,
And shout FINISHED! to your four years of craze.
We’ve loathed thee for minutes, hours, nights and days,
We’ve loathed thee at sunset and in the morning light,
We’ve loathed your long-gunned minions, militias of the right,
We’ve loathed your lackey Senators who offer craven praise.
From loathing civic pride was born, the ballot put to use,
Eighty million strong, and counting, each vote an act of faith.
Our loathing brought you down. It made you lose.
We fought for something better with all our strength and breath,
With smiles, with cheers, new leaders we did choose.
Loathing, the coroner said, caused your political death. ❏
David Rubin is a retired faculty member from the College of Public and Community Service, UMass-Boston, who continues writing fiction, memoir, and an occasional poem or two.