day THIRTY SIX

national day of patriotic devotion

truth be told

i didn’t even know it was a holiday

i was just hungry

and a protein wrap seemed like the perfect antidote

i had no intention of watching the inauguration

but there it was on a big screen tv in the restaurant

the racist with a bad comb-over

waving his little hands around all of his idiot rhetoric

his oompa-loompa orange-colored skin

bright against the rainy washington background

a scan of the crowd

and it looked as if nobody had showed up for his big day

it seemed a touch coincidental, though

trump yelling about immigration on that hallowed stage

as three mexican dudes below the tv

made lunch for seemingly every old white dude

in my neighborhood

they all looked enraptured those pale geriatrics

like they were watching the super bowl or the lottery

instead of the great white dope on the screen

i tried putting my fingers in my ears

because i’d been told online by an unverifiable news source

that the cadence of trump’s voice

could cause an aneurism in certain

vulnerable members of the species

what was the truth anyway these days?

and i was already working on a mean sinus cold

so i didn’t need anything else screwing me up

still it’s pretty hard to try and order lunch

with your fingers stuck in your ears

the cashier just kept looking at me

like i was some kind of an asshole

so i had no choice but to unplug

and communicate myself as best as i could

over that dark din of that plastic fascist’s voice

i’m sure i made a pained face while she took my order

like i wanted anything in the world

but an aneurism or a protein wrap for lunch

and after i left to pick up wine

i thought of maybe running back into the restaurant

and telling her

no, dear, it wasn’t you it was…

but i’d already survived the ordeal

i wasn’t a risk taker

so a repeat performance was not an option

plus i could hear trump’s voice all up and down the block

no i was getting the hell off the street

getting the fuck out of dodge that gray and ominous afternoon

leaving the spoiled milk of democracy

to the huddled masses outside the pub

i was going home to celebrate this newly founded holiday

as i did all the other ones in america

with the windows shut and the blinds drawn

getting drunk like an alien stuck on a hostile planet

hoping that his ship was coming soon

hoping this too would pass.               

                 --John Grochalski