poetry · Recent

Voting Blue in a Red State

Why the fuck did I bother?

I stood in that damn line for

two hours and forty-five minutes.

Earbuds in and bitchface on to keep the

man in front of me from thinking I wanted to hear

his fucked up political opinions.

Just in case that signal wasn’t enough–it rarely is

–I had my eyes down and

trained on my book.

Standing in line, there, inching forward,

surrounded

on all sides, in El Reno Oklahoma.

Almost twelve years I’ve lived in this

red dirt state.

Almost twelve years away from my Emerald City

away from mountains and ocean and green trees and

so much rain you never stop feeling soggy.

Almost twelve years parched in summer and frozen

in winter and nearly swept away in spring and fall

when lightning rips the sky and tornados

never manage to take me to Oz.

This red dirt prairie was starting to feel

a little like home.

And now? I can’t even cry.

Practice for future days

as I’m reminded, again

and again and again and AGAIN

that women don’t matter.

And neither do our tears.

 

Voting blue in a red state is always

disheartening.

But blue, red, green, whatever… those

colors don’t really matter.

This is about whitelash, the last hateful clawing

of the racist, misogynistic, homophobic monster

pulling itself back

out of the pit we’ve never been able to leave it in.

Red or blue, we’ve all been complicit

feeding the monster that now represents

America.

One thought on “Voting Blue in a Red State

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