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As We Slide Off the End of Last Year

I wrote this poem in early 2017, in light of the 2016 US Presidential Election. Carrie Fisher's death was also on my mind. As if that wasn't enough, George Michael died at the end of 2016.

On inauguration day I had to take the day off. I went to my favorite coffee shop to write. It was there I saw the man with the Frank Underwood for President t-shirt.

This poem is only published here.

Zoomed out picture of people on a beach forming the word "Resist"
Photo by Tim Gouw on Unsplash

As We Slide Off the End of Last Year

I compliment a man wearing a Frank Underwood for President t-shirt.

He says it fits. Netflix is in danger of feeling better today

than celebrity deaths. Each time I think of their beautiful faces,


I'm back on the shag carpet Dad couldn't afford to replace,

favorite records scattered. Between dances

I moved the needle back, let the cabinet lid fall


because the clock was running down to cheerleader tryouts,

and humiliation had already had its way with me:

their laughter when I tripped on the mats in the practice room.


anyway why did I even want to be one? Our pretend

jitterbug was hard enough, and Princess Leia

would never have compromised herself that way,


say we all to the door at the end of days,

twist up our hope into buns and blasters,

get ready for battle.

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