© February 10, 2021, the Griot Poet
Thirteen minutes,
Images from the Capitol insurrectionists,
They put out on Parlor, Facebook, and other social media
platforms,
Republican Senators,
Were reading novels,
Checking text messages,
Or, their shoes,
Otherwise, trying to ignore the evidence,
The last time they acquitted a criminal,
We were weeks from lockdowns in this pandemic,
I’ll never forget,
Brown babies in cold cages weren’t enough to remove him,
Sadly, [a] President Pence might have won the election,
He probably would have listened to Anthony Fauci,
And republicans held onto the undemocratic senate,
Rather than continuously undermine him,
Rather than making not wearing masks a “badge of honor,”
He might have saved republicanism,
Now, splitting into two factions,
Between insanity and reality,
They both fear and still attempt to ride this dragon,
A Frankenstein of their own creation,
Forty years of endless gaslighting,
Fearing black and brown Americans,
Women, lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender,
Let’s not forget Muslims,
Immigrants, Asians,
And those whose heritage is Afro-Semitic,
Hear no evil,
See no evil,
Speak no evil,
It is a cultural metaphor,
For deplorable, willful ignorance,
Knowing what’s going on,
Knowing between right and wrong,
Hiding behind a “different perspective” guise,
And choosing otherwise,
Because of the prize,
Is to stay in power,
Doing [as] little work, or public good
As possible,
South Carolina,
Censuring your closeted representatives,
Lindsey Graham, and Tim Scott,
Because they recognized this was a free and fair election,
Punishing them for not showing allegiance,
To your Adult Depends, Adderall sniffing “dear leader,”
As a political party,
They’re not even on the level of the Whigs, or the Know-Nothings,
More like their third eye is blind, having no vision, or
“sixth sense,”
Like the zombie apocalypse: they don’t know they’re dead yet,
The minority turtle, Moscow Mitch,
Despite his disappointment with the orange nitwit,
Voted with the insurrectionists,
Telling his faction out of power,
To “vote their conscientious,”
How can they vote for something,
That they don’t first possess?
They would rather look at their shoes,
Return to fundraising,
Regurgitating slogans, racist innuendo, and talking points,
Endlessly campaigning,
For re-election for power’s sake,
Red meat racism
For the rubes who they convinced,
To vote against their own interests,
Fealty to their real constituents,
The Fortune 500, and the one percent,
The lie that all the time they supported The Constitution,
Until it just doesn’t work for them,
Like monkeys, they resort to flinging feces,
A defensive measure when they cannot bend,
Laws of physics,
Laws of science,
Laws of reality,
Laws of common sense,
Laws, period!
We’re either, in the words of President John Adams,
“A nation of laws, and not of men,”
Or they are recreated in the fascist image of three
deplorable, willfully ignorant monkeys.
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