PSA: Comrades.

I woke up the morning of the 2020 presidential election, assuming I would not be voting at the top of the ticket; I pulled up to the polling place, in my small, rural town and showed the face under the mask, alongside my Kansas State ID, and used the “I Voted” stylus to give them my John Hancock.

Within minutes I cast my decision for dozens of candidates within my authority to vote.

I took my freshly printed choices to the only tally machine at the front of the polling location (Baptist Church’s gym).

I voted at the top of the ballot for America’s children—their health and education.

I voted for the ability to maintain my sex, regardless of my sex—with no sexist circumstances.

And, I smiled.

Insert normal workday with an office full of Trumpers

After work, I had plans to watch numbers roll in at my local watering hole. An hour into my tallying of the day, i received word an intimate friend—one with many more losses under his belt than myself—had lost two comrades in a gyrocopter accident, in the same county I had just voted in hours earlier.

All three men voted for Trump.


This world is NOT better off without these men.

Many days later, I’m still waiting on percentages.

Waiting on what is what for what.

I’m worried for my country’s response

We’re all so disconnected and wanting.




Margins are assuming

My friends are today

And Tomorrow

Is not the future we had


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