Some Run-On Sentences Instead of Watching the Inauguration

drowning out the voices downstairs

Photo by charlesdeluvio on Unsplash

I want to say God help us. But we are the ones who got ourselves into this mess. I'm not sure God can be invoked. Of course God's name is being invoked right at this very moment because separation of church and state does not exist. I am upstairs. I hear the TV downstairs delivering one of the world's most tragic moments of all time right to my cozy living room. I'm surprised he isn't wearing a crown, a velvet robe. Measly man with those tiny hands, the emperor has no clothes but he has a red button and a presidential seal and my spouse calls up that he has just squeezed the waist of his VP's ornamental wife and the little girl is wearing a cloak like little red riding hood and when she grows up they will protect her whether she wants it or not and the saints came marching in with their mascara running and God, if God is anywhere nearby, is all cried out, spent, busy catching up on emails from eons past when at least the seasons were seasons and the destruction was on a smaller scale. Do not ask how, do nor wring your hands do not cry out to God do not sully creation with forces that only know greed and power, you should see my face, as if I just sucked on a whole lemon I can hear his voice now and I'm focusing instead on the whine and hiss of the radiator, my dog's snoring, anything but this moment of coronation I mean inauguration, anything but cheers from blind followers and yes I do mean blind it doesn't matter what drove your vote, you closed your eyes to the words they are invoking, welcome the stranger, clothe the poor, feed the hungry, free the captive. He has a captive audience alright, just like he likes it, look at me everybody, look at my dead eyes, my wife's hat covering her face so we can't see her disdain, pact with the devil. I will remain free by learning the letters and the spirit of the law by learning from those who have survived every kind of evil by opening my door and seeing the sky by asking your name by keeping the gates of my heart oiled that they might open and close according to the will of love and defiance and somehow we'll get through this.

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