After Virgil

is the title of Steve’s new poem, which is dedicated (blush) to me, but really should be dedicated to my parents, my son, or my next President. It starts like this:

At last, today, we can talk about something else–

about rock and roll again, for example, or

about the relative merits of green and black tea,

about anything that we know will have nothing to do

with the national perils and chances that kept us fixed,

like greyhounds in harness, despite ourselves, on the tracks

of the polls, of the ground game, of cellphones and robocalls,

of the neck and neck, the face to face, the fears

we harbored all year for the winner in that great race

where two hundred million people could join, or jeer.

Read the whole poem at InDigest.

(It shouldn’t be double-spaced, by the way; WordPress cognoscenti are welcome to explain how to fix this.)