Friday, February 24, 2017


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

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