2020, a poem

fuck.

2019, a poem

2019

A year,

a whole damn year

of slogan

after slogan

after slogan.

“TULSI!”

“Pete for America!”

“No Malarkey!”

“For the People.”

“I have a plan for that!”

Snake emoji this,

Dirtbag left that,

blah blah blah

SOCIALISM!

ANTIFA!

Who are the real fascists!?

“The Marxists… The Anarchists…”

No, it’s you, dumbass.

Don’t worry,

have a cat meme,

“I can haz healthcare?”

It’s cute.

“Not me, US!”

2018, a poem

2018

Was this the beginning

of the end?

Or the end

of a new beginning?

It was more of 2017,

but with an odd sense

of hope?

Or was that just me?

Was this not the year

that all the marches

all the protests

all the action

started to pay off?

Am I remembering this right?

Was this not the year we

brought down the house?

Wasn’t this

the year we put a collar

on a Golden State Killer?

Wasn’t this the year

victims

became survivors?

Was this all but a dream?

Was it real?

It feels like it was all

so long ago.

8/7/2021

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