by Richard Hacken
Whan that panne-demie with her virrus bittre
the lande with Mericanne courpses did littre,
and swathed thus visages with couvre-masque,
of which vertu for manye was too bigge an asque;
Whan Donaldus (eek!) with his love for selfe
putte bleech and snaque's oil on ev'ry shelfe
for tendre eldres with prievyus conditiones
held oute to driy at cause of his foul perditiones;
and with electiones at halfe cours yronne,
twentie-milles of lyes he'd alreddie sponne,
So priketh hem the truth from toe to tooth
which longeth folk to goon to voting booth,
or mail-personnes who neith in raine nor sleete do faile
to delivere ballotts by the U.S. Mail;
And specially from every stayte and districke
of Vespucci-Lande at the urn they pick
the hatefulle, hurtfulle jerke away to sende
that in an SDNY gaol he might justlie ende.
Richard Hacken is a librarian-poet with degrees in German literature and past appointments at U.C. Davis, Oregon State, University of Kansas and BYU. He has translated Austrian short fiction and the poetry of a Tuvan poet from Mongolia who publishes in German. He claims to have found this Chaucer epilogue in the wash.
