I try to write a poem expressing my views on current politics

but I only end up plagiarizing Robert De Niro

Let’s admit systemic racism still flagrantly flourishes. 

Let’s work to change it. Even if it means some statues of Columbus fall into a lake.

The beautiful and brutal tapestry of contradictions,

Be polite, they tell us,

don’t shout with the truth 

as we steal the future

breath by breath from the youth

As long as I could remember, she had loved flowers

In her gardens, on her table

“But bacon!” was the mic drop

The end of having to feel,

the instant end to imagining

the suffering in a meal

Everyone always uses “rabbit food” when comparing

a vegan diet to that of another animal,

as if that were the only herbivore known to man

When two vowels go walking…

a lot of shit can happen

We fled here for safety,

they said it was great

You bragged about freedom,

I’m locked in a crate

But when we point out

that Trump is a racist, y’all

get all snowflakey

You don’t have to join any group, sign up for any newsletter, or even socialize with vegans. We’re just asking that you choose some rice and beans and cashews and clementines and save some animals, and maybe still save the planet too. 

Standard procedure, par for your course 

You don’t seek permission, you have no remorse 

Not “human trapping, killing, and widespread trading of the marmot’s fur infected thousands.” Nope. Just like “humans were minding our own damn business and the evil fucking marmots infected us.”

His supposed sanctuary was already filled with the bodies of his bovine brethren,

dismantled and displayed in coolers kept frozen to impede their decay

The remnants of excitement now dimmed

beneath years of toil and disappointments

What so proudly we hailed 

to permit it to be taken from you, 

at the twilight’s last gleaming

and occupied by the abolitionist, 

The flames of global warming light your horizon,

its storms blow ever more forcefully against your windows,

and the water continues to inch towards your doorstep

Preceded in death by its beloved spouse, the late Integrity,

and their children, Facts and Evidence

They aren’t all stomped to oblivion,

sometimes they are humanely beaten,

I’d retort, easing my conscious

Listen, my children, and you shall hear

of the president who couldn’t think very clear,

on the fourth of July, twenty-nineteen:

when rain malfunctioned his teleprompter machine