stomp that accelerator and turn your head from dead/dying
the president doesn’t want to answer for mistakes made,
powers unused, reluctance to lead by example,
and, of course, no face coverage except in private
only grudgingly because president can only defer so much
>
getting COVID-19 doesn’t change anything
wife and youngest son getting it doesn’t matter enough
cocktail of medicine ordinary people don’t receive
then back to the superspreader campaign trail
with the same dangerous applause lines
about how it’s politically correct to wear a mask
and open up America so the herd will think
it’s headed towards immunity while they’re
on their way to too-early graves
>
the end of this poem can be written by you on 11/3
vote for science over endless plague
