“WTF America!” Now repeat that 126,144,000 times.
You know you want to. You even understand that you need to.
Please take about 1 second per repetition, Then look up again.
Maybe we’ll have just elected a new president.
Also, don’t forget to breathe.

I really do hope that that girl I overheard, doesn’t jump
off the Golden Gate Bridge or any other bridge.

My understanding of her situation is admittedly limited
to an answer to a question asked by another somebody
that I presumed to be her friend.

“What will you do if Trump wins the election?”

But it seems that as she, unlike her friend,
cannot afford a plane ticket to Barcelona,
in this hypothetical, has to say behind and die.

Probably from jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.

It is 12:40 AM here in California and I haven’t finished this poem yet.
It is 12:42 AM here in California and I haven’t gone to bed yet.
It is 12:43 AM here in California and my Facebook feed is filled with
Sadness, Shock, Incomprehension, and Fear.

I do not know how to end this poem
Is the actual ending of this poem.

I do not know how to end this poem.