The candidate has
a spoilage in his head,

 

an icky bit, a creep
that chews for him alone
when stuffing up the local

 

grub. At every stop,
he shovels in the pies and
dogs, the beer, the dough.

 

Our candidate,
he makes himself, he
takes the extra pump
of cheese. Not easy,

 

as you please, to keep it
down, handed what
you’re given. And so

 

we are. But so is he!
Alike, who hasn’t driven
far to serve? But dread

 

is what he’s said or done,
the condiment atop
a weakened thing

 

you’ll come to know,
to know exactly who
our candidate’s become.

 

Or will. Was never
what he meant. Or,

 

maybe not. Tonight,
it’s comfy here:
You, me, the worm—

 

we’ve got our snacks.
Let’s spoon. We’ll see
what’s on TV

 

###

 

Erin Belieu is the author of four poetry collections, all from Copper Canyon Press, including Slant Six coming in Fall of 2014.

 

“A Rottenness Begins in His Conduct” appeared in the Scenester issue of TLR (Summer, 2013).