my local baseball card shop
rides the trump train
people can reveal themselves
with the weight and force of a hammer
or it can be as subtle
as a simple suggestion
all we were talking about
was the baseball cheating scandal
and a new manager for the mets
maybe i spied some 1988 topps
and had a ten-spot burning a hole in my pocket’
to try and finish off the set
but then i saw that hat on display
black with cheap stitching
like it was made in some sweatshop
we americans love to pretend to forget
all aboard the trump train!
just sitting there
with the mets and yankees ones
like part of a team
it’s always jarring to see that shit
especially somewhere that you
shop in at least once a week
to get that wax and gum-stained nostalgia
that cardboard fix
and i wasn’t prepared for a moral quandary
my conscience suddenly faced with a dilemma
all i wanted
was to recapture a childhood thrill
and call some millionaire ballplayers cheating scum
not get trapped inside
my own partisan debate
weigh the ethics of capitalism
yet there it sat
mr. baseball card selling man
the river wide
that suddenly separated you from me
that hat
looking as cheap and sleazy
as the orange-colored russian asset himself
all aboard the trump train!
and i bought those baseball cards anyway
and now i only need ten cards to finish the set
but it feels
as tainted as the constitution
my good man
a hollow joy
like dimestore candy
or how republicans must feel
every time they smile wide and say
god bless america!
--John Grochalski
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