The Establishment Poet

by Rena Priest

The establishment poet

writes poems with subtle rhymes

and gentle wit that has no bite

and beautiful, reassuring lines

about how you are loved

and the world is kind—

lines you might find

printed on coffee mugs

or stitched on throw pillows

in department stores,

lines that might

make a cheugy gal sigh,

“Well isn’t that nice?”

The establishment poet

has no interest in axes

or the frozen sea inside you, [1]

doesn’t worry about lifting

off the top of your head [2]

or containing multitudes. [3]

The establishment poet

does not use the fuck word,

and you can rest assured

that you’ll encounter

nothing to be burned

when the decent folks come

to ferret out the scourge

of antiestablishment poets.

The establishment poet

will not upset or derail you,

challenge or assail you.

The establishment poet

will build a sweet perimeter

between you and candor

using iambic pentameter.

“The establishment poet,”

says the powers that be,

“is the perfect poet

for dark times like these.”

[1] “A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.” —Franz Kafka

[2] “If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.” —Emily Dickinson

[3] “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)” —Walt Whitman

From Bellingham Review 84:5 (2023?).