Poll Watcher
So say it rains.
Say it rains during zazen
during posture practice.
The drops strike the roof
and leak into your mind.
During a daydream at night
a reverie of a revered one
before bedding-down a day
rolls like a drop rolling
off the beleaguered roof.
A few dead in Arkansas.
Tornados rarely make it this far.
We get the last of the rain,
Godzilla diminished,
still, when he falls he damages
plenty. The effect is felt
at the precinct hall
where watchers count out
the minutes left till closing time.
The president’s name is immaterial.
None of those who voted for him know
they voted for the one
destined to appall.
This cycle meant nothing after all.
Steve Hamelman teaches English at Coastal Carolina University where he has published two books and many articles/reviews on American fiction and rock, some creative pieces too (e.g., poems in The Blotter). He’s the review editor for the journals Popular Music and Society and Rock Music Studies.
Fixator Press 