Body Politic With Crumbling Bridges & Roads Excited to Build Giant Wall
— thanks to Andy Borowitz’s New Yorker, 31 August 2015 title [I substituted Body Politic for Nation.]
By Gerard Sarnat

Google Glasses looked forward to perusing @realDonaldTrump inside a quietly twittering MRI machine.

Super sacred metal detector test passed, a magnetic in vitro priestess injected me toward its albino womb.

Then vibes from the 1st onset of metal coils’ rapid Lorentz electric pulses began bursts of banshee banging.

Sounds soon evolved from industrial strength jackhammer clanking into soft soporific adagio acoustics.

When crumbled hip resonances were done, I got shat from imager bowels back onto the room’s cool floor.

Being co-beneficiary of today’s double bill, after a 2-minute break, she reinserted a collapsing left knee.

During the matinee’s 2nd half, to distract from tingling teeth + rings, I 3D scan unique replacement parts.

Now torturess demanded more searing straight leg raises: buttock pain radiated to toes seemed unbearable.

It became clear to this paranoid that a tech god watched every thought through the tomb’s plastic pinhole.

Since breath-counting meditation wore down & quit working too earlier on, our cranium started to freak.

Somehow we must free us all from an unhinged untuned anshlussing orchestra’s zooming-in tuba players.

There’s only one final solution: thumbs press panic buttons which give birth to a boy’s perfect blond bod.

No longer not able to tie my shoes, skipping off to join new DT Corps, I help build A Great Mexican Wall.

Taliban Make Caliban Cry
By Gerard Sarnat

The pale moon rose in its glory
Out on the Western town
She told a sad, sad story
Of the great ship that went down

– Bob Dylan, from The Tempest

While Miles Davis’ sunny poppy bitches
brew steeps in one helluva milky teapot,
Bill Shakespeare’s still in sulky sultry Rae
Rae’s caste system cellar below Kabir’s
botched watchtower; so esteemed TStikker,
my stickler of an old boy attorney-at-law
– Dennis Rodman enemy type you hate
when he’s on another team – warned moi
that if we seceded our pacific island state,
Attorney General Sessions’d drop us down
in the radius of botched Peshawar where
leering terrorists’d turn virginal daughters
into sex slaves whose cryogenically freeze
dried fathers sought to choose voyeuring in
the eternal ever-after to avoid beheadings.

Harry Didn’t Clown Around Either
By Gerard Sarnat

“Don’t want your love anymore,
don’t want your kisses that’s for sure,
I die each time I hear this sound…”

– Everly Brothers, 1960

Let’s not get mathy Cathy or walk
away Resnais but Colonel Tibbets’
Enola Gay thunderous mushroom
fireburst above Hiroshima mon amour
39 days before I’m born instantly
zapped 79,831, perhaps somewhat
more than a third of that once
gorgeous city’s population –
it was filmed for our viewing
pleasure by a companion B-29
ironically named Necessary Evil
– then events following in forms
of radiation sicknesses turned
out to be inconceivably worse.

Hibakusha (被爆者) is the word for
surviving victims who witnessed purest
whitest brightest radiance ever – including
infinite children whose shadow scorched
sidewalk silhouettes playing Red/ Green
Light plus Hangman were scaffolding
for images Give ‘Em Hell Truman from
the Show Me State used to impress Soviets
with the absurd atomic score, damage
you could avoid – and to get elected Prez
instead of appearing weak if he gave
Hirohito’s staff half a chance to surrender
after observing a plutonium Big Boy dress
rehearsal’s coming attraction offshore.

Gerard Sarnat has authored four collections: Homeless Chronicles (2010), Disputes (2012), 17s (2014) and Melting The Ice King (2016) which included work published in Gargoyle, Lowestoft, American Journal of Poetry and Tishman Review, among others. Mount Analogue selected Sarnat’s sequence, Kaddish For The Country, for distribution as a pamphlet in Seattle on Inauguration Day 2017 as well as the next morning as part of the Washington DC and nationwide Women’s Marches. Harvard/Stanford educated, Sarnat has worked in jails, built/staffed clinics for the marginalized, been a CEO of healthcare organizations and a Stanford Medical School professor. Married since 1969, he has three children, four grandkids.