Chris Barton

 

i am going to dress Donald Trump in one of Andy Warhol’s wigs

 

then elect Andy Warhol wigged Donald Trump, as president of

 

the United States; i am going to manage the campaign to elect

 

Andy Warhol wigged Donald Trump, as president of the United

 

States; nevermind; this is shitty; the odds of becoming president

 

according to google, are 1 in 10,000,000; the odds of becoming

 

a saint are 1 in 20,000,000; nevermind; this is impossible; i am

 

going to wear Andy Warhol’s wig, now, and walk around Kroger;

 

excuse me, i am looking at oranges; there is something in the

 

oranges, i think; some chemical, i think; i think, i would rather be

 

a saint then President of the United States; i think, while walking

 

around Kroger, would rather be a saint in an Andy Warhol

 

production; quick, take my picture on top of the oranges, i think--

 

i will lay here on top of the oranges, i think-- for the ‘10 Versions

 

of an American Saint’ post-humanus portraits by Andy Warhol,

 

series i am a part of; nevermind, i think; i am bored with this;

 

this poem is lacking in existential / moral depth; i am going to add

 

existential / moral depth, i think; the universe is; the universe is…;

 

nevermind; this is pointless; the universe still is; “art is inherently

 

subversive, i think; art is always a political statement, i think, because

 

art makes you re-think,” i said; in a cliche way, i think, on the couch in

 

your living room; i am never going to be in the Academy of American

 

Poets, i think; i am 25, and i am never going to be President of the United

 

States, i think; there are 19 grams of sugar in the Prego pasta sauce at

 

Kroger, and this confuses me, i think;  i am going to blow you away, now,

 

gently, like an eyelash, with this poem; 

 

Chris Barton’s work has appeared in Hobart, Word Riot, Potluck, and most recently Entropy. He is from Knoxville, TN. A thousand hugs. cbarton7g@gmail.

Illustration by Rachel Lillie