Why We Fight Back

 In Poems

Because Election Night is a nightmare we are trying to wake up from.
I’ve pinched myself a million times since Tuesday
but all I did was draw blood.

Because all I see is blood, the map of my country turning red,
like the flushed faces of white men shouting “Make America Great Again.”

Because when exactly was this golden age of American greatness?
Perhaps the 50’s.
The good ol’ days with fresh cut front lawns, malt shops, and sock hops.
The days when your secretary brought scotch to seal the deal,
a slap on her ass for a job well done.
The days when we worked hard and won wars,
like black soldiers sent to fight fascism
but came home to be sent to the back of the bus.

Because Rosa Parks looked at the back of that bus
and say “No.  Not today.”

Because today I watched White Nationalists sieg heil
the new President of the United States.

Because the Alt Right is just Hitler with a Twitter account.

Because a tweet is not the same as a truth,
no matter how often shared,
no matter how well it speaks your worst fear.

Because fear was shaking in the voices
of every immigrant mother waking her children.

Because a young Muslim girl in my poetry workshop
begged her classmates to know that she is not a terrorist.

Because the only terrorists I see marching the streets of America
are the Ku Klux Klan with their white sheets pressed for prime time.

Because Mike Pence believes gay people can be electroshocked straight.

Because I remember a time when the Oval Office was a not a haven for hate.

Because I remember a President who serenaded my city
with “Amazing Grace” in our darkest hour.

Because I want a President who does more than tweet “Sad!”
in the face of national tragedy.

Because I want a President without a rape charge.

Because I want a President without a fake college.

Because I want a President who doesn’t brag about the pussies he’s grabbed.

Because climate change is real.

Because black lives matter.

Because clean water matters.

Because my mama raised me right.

Because you Sir, are not my President.

And you never will be.

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