Holly Painter

They say it’s bad

They say it’s bad, it’s bad.
It’s market fatigue.
The cashiers at the SuperMart
are ready to speak.

They say it’s bad, it’s bad.
It’s public intrigue.
The ladies with the foppish curls
have plenty to speak.

They say it’s sad, it’s sad.
It’s social unease.
The lunkheads at the dairy farm
are trying to speak.

They say it’s bad, it’s bad.
It’s kissing disease.
The hotshots on the radio
are dying to speak.

They say it’s bad, it’s bad.
It’s back on TV.
The boy scouts with their blasting caps
are too bored to speak.

They know it’s bad, it’s bad.
It’s classic ennui.
The watchers with their microscopes
are too floored to speak.

They say it’s bad, it’s bad,
the news from the sea.
The children at the breakfast bar
are wanting to leave.

They know it’s bad, it’s bad
in no small degree.
But the uncles in the SUVs
don’t want to believe.

Holly lives with her wife and two children in Vermont, where she teaches at the University of Vermont. She is the author of Excerpts from a Natural History (Titus, 2015) and My Pet Sounds Off: Translating the Beach Boys (Finishing Line, 2020). Her next poetry collection, At last we listen closely: cryptic crossword poems, will be published in 2021. She is currently working on an interview and photography project about obsolete jobs. Read more at hollypainter.com.