Just a few days before this very contentious Presidential election, I sat down with Chad Parenteau’s latest offering: a chapbook called, Cant Republic, whose cover features a photo of Donald Trump in a face mask with the word, “Placebo” scrawled on it. My first question was is “cant” a real word and it is. The definition is “hypocritical and sanctimonious talk, typically of a moral, religious or political nature.” Of course, there is also the play on the word “can’t” as if this republic, resting on Trump’s words alone, is an impossible one to sustain. And cant rhymes nicely with rant. But “cant” is the perfect word choice for this author’s take on the former President’s way of expressing himself as a so-called leader.
This is a book of erasure and blackout poems, where the author has taken out words, and repeated words and phrases, to show us the sort of underlying spell Trump is casting. My favorite erasure work is one by Phoebe Reeves of the Malleus Maleficarum, or The Hammer of Witches, which was released in 1486, a treatise on witchcraft by a German Catholic clergyman.
It was employed to persecute mainly if not exclusively women, of the sorcery of witchcraft. Its language is quite elevated and sometimes brutal in its call for the torture and extinction of witches. It was considered the standard handbook on witches until well into the 18th century.
One technique Reeves uses is to change the word “heresy” to “her “in her redaction in order to uncover the woman these poems speak about. I haven’t read the entirely of The Flame of her Will but admire the brilliant and beautiful way Reeves has altered this text into something like its opposite. For example:
“God, groping blindly, does not always give the world life. God is subject to a woman.”
Parenteau’s project is slightly different. It’s a timely exercise in stripping down Trump’s speeches into the marrow of their meaning, and as the back cover testifies to “a gutting of Democracy and civil rights, a boosting of ego and bravado, a moral and ethical decay that takes us all down with it.” Mark Lipman
Indeed, many Americans are aware of the pseudo-fascist nature of Trump’s charisma. There are still his robust followers who believe him to be a good leader and even great speaker. Perhaps never in the history of the U.S. has there been such a polarizing Presidential figure, a man who was impeached in office, but who unlike Richard Nixon, declined to resign; who has been convicted of 34 felony counts and who also refused to concede the 2020 election, even when there was ample evidence to prove it was free and fair.
In his introduction, Parenteau explains:
“The poems based on transcripts were less erasure or blackout poems and more highlight poems. As the pandemic went on, I spent my days going through pages and pages of his words with a
highlighter (orange of course) capturing what I judged to be his rampant ID and rotted ego (which has become one single monstrous voice…)
Clearly, despite his brazen lies and ridiculous non-sequiturs, Trump has managed to create a devoted following and one has to wonder what Americans really pay attention to, if not the words themselves? Some argue that Trump is loved for being an outsider, an anomaly and that his dumbed down rhetoric appeals to those turned off by the liberal Democratic Party elites. Be that as it may, Parenteau has chosen to wield a poet’s tool against the “brazen nonsense” that Trump imparts.
In the first piece, “Cant Republic,” he captures these words:
“It was
victory
we’re now
Trump territory
voters
overturned.”
P 8
and
“fraud
American public
this
country
this election
win this
win
to ensure
the
nation
this
‘ very big
nation
we want the law
to stop
in the morning…”
p 10
In the longest piece “Rough Beast Born,” a title taken from the Yeats’ poem, we see the colliding opposites in Trump’s speech, the endless repeating of words and phrases like “thank you” and “quarantine” and “ we’re setting records” and “terrible (people)” and “to beat” and “incredible.” He is a master of repeating simple phrases made to ingratiate himself, to subdue, to dramatize
during a public health crisis where millions of lives were at stake and when the US lost more lives than any industrialized nation with Trump at the helm.
“for decades
African Americans
children
African Americans
we are reversing
your
countries
ended
I am
the globe
I am
American.”
P 28
and
“a thing called murder
we won
did you see that
we won
p 30
And on the subject of healthcare Chad has uncoded these riffs:
“we killed
we’re trying to kill
you’ll have
preexisting conditions
preexisting conditions
doubled
think of that.”
P 33
and
“…you’re terminally ill
go home and
die
terminally ill
go to Asia
go to Europe
sign paper
get results
unbelievable
unbelievable”
p 33
It is perhaps the most powerful section in this book: the clear bullshit that Trump as President spewed about public health and the epidemic, how unwilling he was to engage in facts, to empathize or truly boost morale through positive action without his political ego being at stake. That familiar refrain, “unbelievable, unbelievable” that he ends so many of his crazy assertions with.
“we are
epidemic
deaths
disease
big deal
disease
people die
so much work
die from overwork
for a long time
The word
they have to do
so much easier
such an honor
great thing
great thing”
p 34
Parenteau has in some cases, bolded words to underscore their significance:
“til the end
I don’t get enough
I need
more….”
P 36
The Don uses words like “swamp, “invokes the expression “dirty people,” and “incredible stories,” always to somehow both denigrate and glorify the people who he’s trying to win over. In this poem, Parenteau highlights his subconscious fears and desires. Trumps tries to honor Americans who work but comes back to his administration’s greatness. How many times have we heard him say, “It’s gonna be great?” So vague, casual and pompous all at once.
The chapbook concludes with four shorter poems that encapsulate an episode of the Trump Presidency. In “At Home” the author transcribes:
“I know
pain
I know
hurt
we had
us
a landslide
everyone knows…
law and order
we
hurt
very tough…
This was
play
people
you’re
what happens
you
are
so bad
so evil
I know
You feel
peace
p 47
Again, Trump’s catch phrases of winning by a landslide, of law and order, of it being “very tough” for him, always to win sympathy and then the extreme demonizing “so bad/so evil” and the placating of “I know/you feel/peace.” This is the dance Trump does over and over -- the lying bravado and the simple attempt to identify with his people, draw them in with a statement as simple as “it’s tough” and then the reassuring statement at the end. In this version we see that Trump could as easily be calling his own followers, “so bad, so evil,” when of course he was alluding to his detractors in real time.
This poem was taken from a transcript of Trump’s January 6th words to Capitol rioters telling them to go home. And this was the event that for many Americans, marked the lowest point of his Presidency, an insurrection on the Capitol, an attempt to block, through violence, the certification of the people’s vote.
This is an ingenious collection that serves as a kind of testimonial to Trump’s deceptive and deceiving rhetoric, especially evident during the Pandemic.
