A new poem about the Democratic nominee

The first
~for HRC

The first woman could talk to snakes,
she accepted their gifts
and made love to knives.

The first woman cut a hole
in the ceiling that wasn’t there
with a diamond large as hope.

She pulled herself up
by her bootstraps
and stood on the other side

of the sky, filled with balloons
and music and little girls’ eyes
swollen with tearful pride

at the thought of selling out
to an idea, becoming
nothing but a box to check,

a hero in a white pant suit
stalling the moon
with promises of an endless night,

and her fingers crossed
for more time
to win the love of the undecided.


1 thought on “A new poem about the Democratic nominee”

  1. Yes, indeed ” a hero in a white pant suit ”
    I choose to read this as filled with respect and love for this incredibly strong dedicated mother to a nation crying out for a competent, caring, guiding hand on the path to a more perfect UNITED country where love (and the founding ideals) of this nation shall always trump hate.

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