day ONE HUNDRED and FIVE

to the guy with the donald trump

bumper sticker on i-90 east

i can feel your populism from here

in the cool confines of the passenger seat

your window is up too

we both got the a/c blasting, bro

because they sure make america hot these days

caliente or kalinatuh i’d say, much to your chagrin

that is, i’m not much for building walls

or banning people from these shores

but i’d sure like to rip that bumper sicker

off the back of your car

carve a few swastikas in it too, for good measure

if only time and chance

had made us neighbors

i wonder where i guy like you comes from

out of the dark, bloody past of privilege

or straight from some all-white fantasyland of the mind

coming up behind me and the wife

and then swerving in front of us, thug style, baby

at eighty miles an hour on the I-90 going east

then switching to the other lane

so we’re running neck and neck

sunglasses and your baseball hat pulled low

paul ryan stubble that you forgot to shave

shit, you’re making america great again

by just your being you

taking to the open road

like you own the whole fucking thing

a little capitalist king in his little foreign car

or rather some mindless minion begging to be led

lost in america between rochester and syracuse

like so many others of your ilk

oh, and sorry about that middle finger

that i gave you

as you zipped up that exit doing sixty

when they wanted you to do thirty

back to that america

that they’re trying to take from you

one run to the border at a time

it’s just habit for me these days

like i just can’t help myself

so call it a cold gesture

on the rough roads of this hard land

or call it fuel for your fire, dude

a warning shot

or an opening salvo

call it whatever you want

…you dumb motherfucker.

--John Grochalski

Poem Previously Appeared in Drunk Monkeys