Omg, NOT a Poem.

I scribbled so I wouldn't sob.

I woke up this morning and started to cry.

It’s all gone tits up, and we all know why.

First, there’s the misogyny, racism, and hate

that America runs on—ain’t up for debate.

“Ban the gay books! Drill baby, drill!”

“Hillary’s the anti-christ! I took the red pill!”

“Outlaw abortion! Send immigrants back!”

I’ve been tired of this shit since the war in Iraq.

Fifty-four percent of men voted for this.

To them I will say, “You can all rot in piss.”

I’m worried for everyone who has a vagina.

My God, did he have to win North Carolina?

(If you saw that rhyme coming, what can I say?

I just need to get through this repugnant damn day.)

And yeah, I’ll admit that the Dems are a mess.

Where the party goes now is anyone’s guess.

They ran toward the center, but it didn’t work—

and offered us no more than “Tr*mp is a jerk.”

Part of the problem was they had no time,

and Biden left Harris with a tough uphill climb.

Don’t get me started on Elon and Rogan.

(Damn, I just thought of that thing with Hulk Hogan.)

The rich will stay rich and the poor will stay poor—

to prevent this, we sure could have done a lot more.

“Steff, why a poem? This is kinda dumb.”

Bitch, I don’t know. I’ve completely gone numb.

I need to keep writing to help stay awake—

Don’t feel like you have to read this for my sake.

Last night I completely avoided the news,

plus I also abstained from gummies and booze,

but around six o’clock I just didn’t feel right—

my heart beat too fast and my chest felt too tight.

I tried to watch Elvis — what else could I do?

But the story just left me incredibly blue.

I mean, it’s been less than one hundred years

since the twitch of a pelvis amplified all our fears.

And yeah, white supremacy is our country’s real king.

It’s like history still hasn’t taught us a thing.

Should I publish this? It’s nerdy as hell.

Ugh. I’m still typing. Guess I may as well.

I promise this won’t be a regular thing.

The despair that I feel is the dorky wellspring.

Anyway, I left my election cocoon

when I watched the concession speech this afternoon.

Tim Walz was there, and he looked so sad.

It’s refreshing for a politician to be a good dad.

And Kamala, well, she nailed it of course.

She never cried, but at times sounded hoarse.

Look, she wasn’t my favorite—not by a lot—

but I’d rather have her than a fucking despot.

I guess that that choice just wasn’t as clear

to those who’ve succumbed to 45’s brand of fear.

She said, “The light of America’s promise will always be bright.”

Not sure I believe it, but I do hope she’s right.