Journal # 11.09.16

The map of the states, the topography of the election was blood red and rising last night. I thought it looked prettier with the interstitial lakes of blue we saw in 2008 and 2012. In Manhattan there was a glass ceiling, unbroken, and through it one could see the many dejected faces below, their leader missing in action. Somewhere deep in the everglades she lost, by a fraction. Today the proper treatment is falling in line. Come together and act united, the states. I know where I’m gonna start… I will be heading over to Susan B. Anthony’s grave with my wire brush, to remove all those – I VOTED! – stickers from her tombstone.



ONE of them gets to feel loved by the entire country. one of them will feel loved by me and you. we can only hope that they didn’t use all their life up to now, positioning themselves to be loved like this. i wanna choose the one who wakes up every morning and already feels loved. the one i cannot take that feeling away from, no matter

or when
or where
or how i cast my vote…

even if the only one they know who truly loves them
thick or thin
is themselves