An Election is Not the Super Bowl

I am in the second stage of grief, anger, following the election. Yes, I will pray for Donald Trump to evolve into a compassionate and effective leader. I will send light and try to see the big picture and the perfection in the Universe and all those things, but for now, it feels important to leave this one on the field. 

An Election is Not the SuperBowl

Fuck you,
media and television
for giving attention to Donald Trump
in the first place and
for the fact I almost
clicked on a Yahoo article
showing Melania Trump’s
outfit the night of the election
with the teaser that perhaps
wearing white was a faux pas.
Fuck me that I care
about anybody’s fashion
when their husband says
he’ll log the National Parks.

Fuck you Trump
to claim you are
making our nation great again.
Great like when
we practiced genocide,
killing millions of
Native Americans to get it?
Great like when we used slaves
to farm our crops
and build our railroads?
Great when descendants of those slaves
are discriminated against
and fill our prisons?
Great when we sell arms
and wage senseless wars?
Great as in having no health care
and homeless living on the streets?

Fuck you who berate liberals because
“they vote with how they feel”
when feeling for others
is the hallmark of being human,
because hearts should bleed
when peoples are oppressed
and the environment is not safe guarded. 
Fuck me for wishing and
wringing my hands, for hoping
any political party could make up
for my own apathy, fuck me
for not knowing my neighbors
and clothes shopping when I am bored,
for thinking voting for my beliefs alone
was doing enough,
fuck me for sitting back
on the sidelines to watch.