Vox Populi
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Ellen McGrath Smith: 9 1/2 Months
This is not a film I wish to be in
but there’s nowhere else to go;
so I sit on the deck, let fall
slow-bruise my heart,
pretend this French blue sky
will never go en grève
and that great strife is not ahead.
Nice lady waiting for her
money to make money
rings her little silver spoon
against the bone china rim—
signaling her wish for me
to shut up about these things,
followed by a lecture
on giving him a chance &
on visualization and manifesting
that trips on its satiny
shoelaces and ends up
slapping my soul
as though it were a cheek
(face or ass depending on
the fire in my speech).
Suburban white voter, go ahead:
blindfold me, spin me to dizzy,
walk me around the subdivision
letting the menopausal
chrysanthemums
pepper my nostrils
with their misgivings.
Sit me down in a booth
in the TGI Fridays, read me
my rights. Force-feed me
the burger and fries
and the indigestible cloth
of the flag. Let’s call it
9 1/2 Months, where
all will be forgiven
if the president resigns
and the lights come back on.
Copyright 2017 Ellen McGrath Smith
Vox Populi 
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Thank you Ellen McGrath Smith…….
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