Once More Unto The Ballot Box

This day is called the Midterm Election:

She that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tiptoe when this day is named,

And rouse her at the name of “Midterm.”

She that shall see this day, and live old age,

Will yearly on the vigil canvass her streets,

And say, ‘Tomorrow comes another election.’

Then she’ll call up receipts and show her history,

And say, ‘Thus was I trolled on Election Day.’

Old folks forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But she’ll remember with progressive heart

What votes she cast this day. Then shall their names,

Familiar in her mouth as household words–

Beto O’Rourke, Gillum and Houlahan,

Good Stacey Abrams, and Kyrsten Sinema–

Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.

This lesson shall the woman teach her daughter.

And Midterm Election shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered:

We few, we happy few, we band of voters.

For she today that casts her ballot with me

Shall be my sister: be she ne’er so basic,

This day shall make her positively chill.

And assholes through the country now a-couch

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their citizenships cheap while any speaks

That fought with us upon Election Day.

Vote, motherfuckers.

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