Sestina Where Every End Word Is Lyndon Johnson

SASHA DEBEVEC-MCKENNEY | 131 Sestina Where Every End Word Is Lyndon Johnson Sasha Debevec-McKenney poetry I am drinking water out of my dark green Lyndon Johnson water bottle. I woke up this morning thinking about Lyndon Johnson. I am only a third through a 3,000 page biography of Lyndon Johnson, I saw a bird and it reminded me of Lyndon Johnson because it had a nose like Lyndon Johnson’s and hopped from branch to branch like Lyndon Johnson. My rhythm is Robert Caro’s: wake up, Lyndon Johnson, breathe, stretch, drink co≠ee, Lyndon Johnson, walk down Central Park West, Lyndon Johnson, dust o≠ typewriter, Lyndon Johnson, write about Lyndon Johnson, Lyndon Johnson, die writing about Lyndon Johnson, Lyndon Johnson. In August I flew to Austin, to the Lyndon Johnson Presidential Library, and the Lyndon Johnson Birthplace, and Grave, and to little Lyndon Johnson’s one room schoolhouse, and to Lyndon Johnson’s Texas White House, and I camped out in that Lyndon Johnson Hill Country and I swear all the stars were Lyndon Johnson. If I try to imagine a world without Lyndon Johnson, it's just the same world but I can tell Lyndon Johnson is missing. And I think that’s all Lyndon Johnson ever wanted: for us to believe no one like Lyndon Johnson exists, or existed. But he was barely Lyndon Johnson. So who was Lyndon Johnson? 132 | SASHA DEBEVEC-MCKENNEY He tried hard to hide it but if you look at Lyndon Johnson long enough you start to see Lyndon Johnson: gangly-dark-haired-know-it-all-Lyndon Johnson, cheater-liar-refuser-to-read-a-book-Lyndon Johnson, self-centered-fancy-dresser-Lyndon Johnson, three-packs-a-day-three-heart-attacks-Lyndon Johnson, I hate Lyndon Johnson until I love Lyndon Johnson, I am eating Lyndon Johnson and sleeping Lyndon Johnson, watching Lyndon Johnson watching Lyndon Johnson. ...