Donald, when I thought of you
In a gold bathtub I worried
About losing my mind because
I’ve never seen you in a bathtub
But when you left me standing
Lump-on-a-log-like with my gift
For Michelle on Inauguration Day
I thought of you in a gold bathtub,
The fleece that covers you floating
And your phallus also floating —
Oh God, I felt trapped thinking
Of you watching a wall-mounted
Television set in a gold bathtub
And now I can’t stop thinking it.
From: http://blog.bestamericanpoetry.com/the_best_american_poetry/2017/01/
Date: 2017
By: Mitch Sisskind (1945- )
Leave a comment