If the unthinkable
Becomes reality
Crimson death balloons
Detonating before our eyes
Will there be pain
As my atoms go nuclear
Turning inside out
Incinerate into nothing
Will my final thought
Be one of release
I didn’t vote for him
Not the first tine
Nor the second
Definitely not the third
The blood of others
On other hands
I did what I could
To prevent the
Narcissistic
Delusional
Bigoted
Self-righteous
Hypocrite
From gaining power again.
Maybe my last thought
My last feeling
As my disintegrating body
Becomes a shadow
Silently screaming
On the wall
Should be of
Blind rage
Rage against those
Who wanted this
Wanted him in office
Knowing he was unstable
Shoving his first chosen
Right-hand man
Under a bus
For not illegally
Calling him winner
Now no one wins
Maybe not even
The only kind
Of people
Other than himself
He cares about
Rich
White
Straight
Christian
Men
But with your vote
You wanted that too
To cleanse the country
Of anyone
Identifying as a
Race
Sexuality
Religion
Gender
Different than you
You knew how he
Hated
Other
Humans
Who didn’t fit into
His homogenized mold
When you voted
This time around
So don’t play dumb
In our final hour
Will you rejoice
With your last
Holier than thou
Atomic breath
Give thanks to
Your elected
Lord and Savior
For making
The upcoming
Post-apocalyptic
Wasteland
Great again
____________
2025, John L. Harmon
This poem is an expression of my fear and anger over current events.
Freak Out,
JLH
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