We’re hosting Obama’s political funeral and the pallbearers consists of poets from a poetry society called C3PO. The transition from Obama to Trump evokes emotions of happiness, sadness, and especially anger. So it only makes sense that we use poetry to convey this transition.
Here’s an excerpt from Hannah Watts’ poem reflecting on being a Coloradan who was too young to vote for Obama, but still wanting to make her voice heard:
I knocked doors for this President.
This out of nowhere Chicago resident.
Tall, dark, and handsome peddling Change.
I knocked doors for a President.
I argued with complacent independent misfits
Over their fraying doormats with doobies in hand.
I sojourned and coaxed
Mother, Father
Father, Woman, Man.
Hope. Vote. Change.
Change because there had been so many white guys
Dropping Bombs without thinking.
Not over injustice, but petroleum
Over machines drinking oil from the Earth
And offshore inking.
And when he moved into the White House, I loved his garden and his wife.
And I’ll tell you up front the improvements to my life
I have healthcare—nothing’s perfect—we’re still fighting
But the fight has changed.
Okay thank you, President
From this Colorado resident.