Marcus Bales
Trumpymandias
for Pino Coluccio
I met a traveler from an antic land
Who said: “Within his oddly orange-tanned
Visage, puckered lips in childish need
Seek all attention all the time, his greed
Demanding more the more demands are met.
‘Look at my crowds, you Democrats, and despair!’
He boasts, but photos show his Inaugural
Attendance thin and ersatz as his hair,
And when next day the women marched, the sprawl
Of half a million people filled the Mall.
The nations of the world observe his threat
Of id ascendant, super-ego lost,
And wonder what in blood, toil, tears, and sweat
Unquenched and quenchless avarice will cost.”
Not much is known about Marcus Bales except he lives in Cleveland and his poems have not been published in The New Yorker or Poetry.
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