a fly landed on my screen
and I reflexively tried to click on it
but it flew away, up and over the horizon
to newly discovered lands, resplendent
verdant places labeled with exotic
names cribbed from the antediluvian
aboriginals, and over time, saddled
with strange new meanings
our rights and their violations
my discourse, your refutations
our liberty, a stone to make soup
let’s again, through the fiery hoop
Q. What do you call an opioid epidemic in a white neighborhood?
A. Opioid epidemic.
Q. What do you call an opioid epidemic in a black neighborhood?
A. Crime wave.
Q. What’s the difference between a pharmaceutical company and a drug cartel?
A. I give up, what.
Q. What is the purpose of the law?
A. To protect people who have stuff from people who don’t.
Q. What do you call a white man with an assault rifle?
A. Open carry advocate.
Q. What do you call black boy with a squirt gun?
A. Officer involved shooting.
Q. What do you call a rapist who runs for president?
A. Mr. President.
Q. What do you make of this fucking country anymore?
A. Fuck me, IDK.
A Republic, if you can keep it.
Eventually I will age and die. So be it.
That is my concession speech.