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      October 18, 2016How I Am Like Donald TrumpRachel Custer

      for D.T. and other lonely people

      Yesterday I said the thing
      I was trying to say
       
      perfectly to myself. I am something
      astounding, I am like the Grand
       
      Canyon, I said, by which I meant
      I sometimes feel hedged in
       
      by those who would sweat in hot cars for days
      just to stand and look at me. And people think
       
      I am saying I am a spectacle, a wonder
      surrounded by nothing
       
      as huge as me, and people think I am
      claiming majesty. People travel for days
       
      to look at the most important canyon, which is to say
       
      the biggest empty space. Sometimes
      I might as well kick pea gravel over the side
       
      rather than try to explain who I am
      and wait until I hear it hit the ground.
       
      What I am trying to say
      in small, hard words that always fall away
       
      from what I mean,
      is I am not the canyon, the immense
       
      perfection of its depth, I am more
      the missing earth dispersed,
       
      trying to feel whole, to believe
      that God makes sometimes
       
      by taking away.

      from Poets Respond

      Rachel Custer

      “Pretty much every news story right now is about Donald Trump. Except that they’re all negative, and this poem is not. Poetry can do so much, and one thing my partner and I were just talking about is the fact that these candidates are human beings, both of them. I try to imagine how it would feel to only hear myself derided and hated all day long.”