The Senator Poem

by Jeremy Schmall

Drag me Mr. & Mrs. senator into the senator home
of your favorite senator let us drink
single-barrel scotch   chat about hedge funds
& disgusting senatorial intercourse
while out back the post-virgin doozies
bring their full passion to bear atop body boards

Senators inside closets inside the sleepless
mansions out near the coral reef in a scuba
suit bounding across the Appalachian mountaintops
buried by an avalanche of bank statements
in a black car named Luke

Mr. & Mrs. senator get off my Vespa
get off my toes
off my bed with your
shoes on get me off
so I can get
some sleep

Medical professionals in a meditative trance
politely dismissed by a senator
in full-body armor

My hands on the waists
of 15 senators this week

If I could grow senators I would
If I could dress them in leggings
        & short skirts I would
If I could throw my cell phone
at a senator of my choice I would not
because it would be too hard to choose

I am at home right now
staring at my crocus named senator

It could really use some water
& that means an untraceable
deposit in an off-shore bank account

It means a speech in front of military
& firemen atop police cars
in a nursing home
of senators
in black socks shiny wingtips
well-tailored black suits bright red ties
beaming as the crowd loses it
with applause.