Poem, Madelaine Hanson, 31/05/2017, 17.35
Iaculis, meaning grab, would suit you well
If I were to write some book, satire on a man like you.
Less Carpe Diem but Carpe Feles
Groping at the world with a sleaze that seems to choke
All women with the dystopian fumes of your illborn misogyny
Thick with delusions of our role as dolls
To smile and wait your table while you, Iaculis,
Grasp at us with orange fists, ripe with money but little charm
And we divert our eyes in the name of Patrotism.
You sicken me, fair haired like Caligula, same incestuous spin
That makes me grimace at your face. When I stumble on women who
voted for you I think less martyrs but tragic figures, playing to fate
On some sick irony.
So play on, Iaculis, in your Caligulan reign
And history will cast for you a truer statue from our tongues.
