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

2017, a poem

2017

Pussy hats,

“white women voted for Trump”

Fake news.

“Russia! Russia! Russia!”

and a meme of Jan Brady.

El Chapo was here.

Emmitt Till

was killed for nothing,

but we already knew that.

Chelsea Manning.

Betsy Devos.

Neil Gorsuch.

Sally Yates.

ACLU.

Gag order.

Muslim ban.

Piss tapes.

And that was all

just in January!

2016, a poem

2016

FEEL THE BERN!

I’m with HER!

Make America

Great Again!

Taco Trucks!

Hombre…

Nasty Woman!

Twitter.

Russia,

Red Scare 2.0.

“But he’s not

even a Democrat!”

Girlboss

gonna get anointed!

Blah blah

email

blah blah.

November 8,

it begins.

NOT MY PRESIDENT!

Abolish the EC!

Almost forgot to mention

the pipelines.

“Do black lives matter

or do all lives matter?”

Trayvon Martin would

have been 21.

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