
Fauci’s Refusal To Answer Questions Matches Hubris of America’s Botched Covid Response
By JOSH HAMMER
|Poets like Boris Dralyuk can write an iambic-pentameter sonnet just because they appreciate the sound and feel of it, too young to remember the days when you risked your academic life and poetic reputation by daring to rhyme.

Playing on the similarity of “casting a ballot” (submitting a vote) and “casting a ballet” (hiring dancers for a production), Boris Dralyuk (b. 1982) writes a sonnet about the showtime of his life. It’s a Shakespearian sonnet (three quatrains and a couplet) with a slightly irregular rhyme scheme, each quatrain differently arranged: abab ccdd effe gg. And along the way it builds a surreal sense of aging as an ever-enlarging ballet production: the dancers milling, the curtain dropping, and through it all the strange sense of the absentee ballet promoter.
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