Black the boots of success

One of my all-time favorite poets is e.e. cummings, 1894-1962. He introduced me to free-form poetry and the concept that all elements of a poem—not just the words—contribute to the meaning.

I was in high school, remember.

Cummings definitely had an eye for the political animal. And he used his words like a boning knife, to fillet every layer of despicability and venality. He’s definitely got us covered for the current administration and its “excursion” in Iran.

Perhaps his most famous anti-war poem is “plato told”. It skewers those who will not heed the warnings of Greek philosophers, Jewish teachers or American generals that war is not anything to be sought. (It also nails the businessman who’s perfectly happy to profit by trading with the enemy, especially since neither he nor his sons will be headed in harm’s way.)

“next to of course god america” goes more directly after those who preach the gospel of glory; the ones who give the fieriest speeches in hoarse voices, urging someone else’s sons to go to war. The ones who—for one reason or another (could be draft deferments for bone spurs, or “critical” business interests)—never actually have to carry a carbine at the front. Looking at how cummings jams all the clichés of bloviating politicians together, you can just see the red-faced, over-fed politician standing at a podium, sweating copious amounts into his wrinkled suit as he makes his tired case.

The only thing missing is the chants of the audience.

“next to of course god america”

next to of course god america i
love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country 'tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

Because it’s cummings, I’m giving you another poem for today’s National Poetry Month entry. This one speaks to the entire ethos of MAGA.

(Look at how he’s structured the first two lines of each iteration of “humanity”, carefully changing the emphasis by where he places the words at the end of the first line.)

“Humanity i love you”

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you’re hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you’re flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shop and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more

especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it’s there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you

 

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