Sunday, 19 January 2025

Born on the 26th of Prairial




















After snowy Nivôse, President Trump
ascends in Pluviôse, the Month of Rain
to the throne of office in his distorted world,
sees time laid out before his glory like a map
and all the revolutionary months prevail
to run ahead: Ventôse to blow away his enemies,
Germinale to grow his seeds of power,
Floréal and Prairial for them to flower and spread.

Because he was born on the 26th of Prairial,
the Day of Jasmine, he smells the air before him:
Messidor is waxing warm and Thermidor,
whose fire he will redouble, he will rename
Fervidor and, in it, burn his way,
burnish his path to eternities of acclaim.

Then, in Fructidor he will sleep
till Vendémiaire ferments his victories
into the wine of triumph.

In Brumaire he will cool his passion’s ardour,
while frigid Frimaire freezes out all dissent.
© BH, 2025

I was toying with the French Revolutionary Calendar. Somehow, Trump insinuated himself. I thought, in a way, he is intent on rewriting everything to his own narcissistic rules—a bit like rearranging the calendar, renaming the months, changing the length of hours, minutes, and seconds…

On his inauguration day, it seems worth noting. That's all, folks!





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