By Josie Hunter
November 7th, 2020.
We can finally breathe . . .
but not George Floyd. Killed Breonna Taylor, no entry.
I had time to seethe, I was fuming.
Now, the White House can get fum-igated—cleaned up!
But this virus is killing us.
Who gon’ fuckin’ save us?
We been tired, now we sick,
Fannie Lou Hamer, “tired of being sick and tired”
of all of the things that transpired.
Four years of fuckshit, now look at all the problems we’ve acquired!
came just in time.
Feel like we been laborin’ with no lunchtime
while the president treated this like Showtime.
My prime—I’m ready,
gotta fuckin’ bright future steady.
Thank you. I’m grateful!
Even though I got my plate full and these fuckers are hateful,
I stay prayin’ to God; now ain’t the time to be unfaithful.
But it’s hard innit?
One day I’m like “Wah gwan God? Have you forsaken us? Have you left us? Gone out to get milk and said, ‘fuck us’?” No, of course not!
God said, “I love you, but Imma need y’all to love, too. I can’t do it by Myself. . . I need all of you.”
Free will, but jeez there’s some of you with few screws.
You nuts, but I still pray for you.
But I’m tired, aren’t you?
Sometimes, I feel like I can breathe a lil deeper, sleep a lil calmer, but anxiety grows steeper.
I’m nervous, a lil scared—I ain’t gon’ lie!
I’m worried because on November 7th, 2020 some people had to lose.
Other people were dancing in the streets around the world, but beasts stay workin’—lurkin’ in the underworld.
And right now, I celebrate, but I will stay vigilant.
Just know that this miracle was heaven-sent, take care of it.
And we gon’ stay on y’alls asses too, don’t think we ain’t forget about you.
We happy you’re here, but don’t dismiss all the work that’s overdue.
You gotta big plate so I hope you hungry.
You always gotta stay focused, gotta fix this country,
or rather get us out of this dump.
And treat us right, cuz we know you better than Trump.
And we not asking to be saved—only respected, never neglected.
We watchin’ all the moves you selectin’
so be careful.
This ain’t no commercial—
beep, beep!—this was your first checkup.
Now you know what’s up. . .