POSTSCRIPT TO CHUKOVSKII’S “TARAKANISHCHE”: COCK THE ROACH

by Judith Skillman

Tarakanishche on a Russian postage stamp, 1993 via Wikipedia

He’s come back 21^st siecle to demand 

sacrifice from bears, wolves, elephants.

Abdomen fat and tan-orange,

creature slits for eyes. Picture sticky legs

gesticulating against the will

of the electorate. Still, followers 

comb and braid degolas tentacles,

feign smiles for Easter’s children 

who come to a massive lawn 

littered with the remains of what once 

was an emblem of democracy—

The White House. Whether or not 

you choose to believe an old story,

two sycophantic elephants 

pose right before your face, knotted

tails not hiding obscenely

tinier balls. Have we forgotten how 

this drama ends? Emily Dickinson's

twice forfeited sparrow wades away

in… the deepest sky. Nature’s empty plate.

Judith Skillman’s recent collection of poetry is Oppression, Shanti Arts. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Alabama Literary Review, Commonweal, North American Review, and other literary journals. She has received funding from The Academy of American Poets and Artist Trust.

OPTIONS TO CONSIDER AFTER A TRUMP VICTORY

by David James

CREDIT: MATT / THE TELEGRAPH 

You can stumble
into your cave of despair and blame

half the electorate for their blind
ignorance; you can stick your head
in the sand and try to hide the shame

you feel for your country; you can live behind
four walls of silence and let the world implode

on itself.  Or you can gather your belongings
and move to Croatia or Singapore.
But it won’t change a thing. On the long road

to heaven, you’ll find lepers and hypocrites, almost anything
floating between paradise and hell.

The fact is, no election could ever save us.
No truth can be hidden for long.
No amount of rain can fill the old well

if the well’s dry as a bone. To live with disgust
is to admit defeat. To admit defeat is to lose

all hope. And to lose all hope it to give in
to darkness. Sorry, I can’t let that happen. I’ll stand here
in the light, work hard, and wait for the good news.

David James' third book My Torn Dance Card was a finalist in the 2016 Next Generation Indie book award. More than thirty of his one-act plays have been produced. He teaches at Oakland Community College.