He makes headlines now and then
one book and then another
false tears and faulty claims
a prophet for profit.
How do you know for sure,
a friend asked.
It’s posture, I explained.
No, not how he sits —
though his aggressive leaning and pointing
are tells, for sure
it’s how he postures his point
twists his words like he twists his face
pushes his prophecies and perversions
like he pushes the energy in a room
hand gestures feign truth like magicians
or priests at the pulpit,
predator preaching his Rules,
his black and white dogma
with a heavy fist to the table
so it must be true,
and you must believe
God Damn It.
Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. #NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.
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