"Until It's True It's Just Bulls@%t!!"

At a recent writer event in Burlington, a rather tall woman who had been signing people up for the open mic started things off with an original ditty that demeaned our newly-elected president's private parts, brain size, and children.

This hastily-constructed contribution to literature turned on whatever rhymes with "teeny" and "weenie". It encouraged considerable laughter from the largely female audience.*

Applause was energetic.

Appearing seventh on the list, I shared a political poem I'd written recently:

We've got our very own Dilma

The prez they impeached in Brazil

The difference is we already know

About her and her husband Bill.**

I then shared how a fellow poet believed that what we have on Hillary Clinton is "unsubstantiated innuendo". Thinking this might make an excellent title for a detailing of Hillary Clinton's crimes, written as a "list poem", I promised to keep such in my back pocket in case I had to be subjected to further readings of the teeny-weenie sort.

Keying off a reading of an anti-war poem, I then read my narrative poem "An End to War". Several people filed out as I read. The singer-songwriter who'd appeared just before me kept his eyes glued to the floor as I left the performance area. I reached out my hand anyway, saying "Good job!" He responded in kind, finally looking into my face.

The male emcee, a noted radio show host from New Hampshire, took center stage again, saying something to the effect of "sounds like somebody's been getting into the Heady Topper".***

A sweet lady came up to me at the food table . .

. . and said: "Thank you for what you said. That's exactly what I wanted to say after I heard her read." She had been a Bernie supporter. I gave her a hug, noting that we needed to be loving and tolerant.

The co-organizer of the writer organization came in later, as I was leaning on the back wall. She pointedly said positive things to the teeny-weenie "poetess" seated nearby, averting her eyes as she passed by me.

The one male about my age . .

. . who I thought by his thoughtful look might actually be on my side, came over and said he liked my poem. He then opened up a political discussion of how we must somehow come together as a nation. I asked:

"Does starting off an open mic by demeaning the president-elect's genitalia, brain size, and children qualify?"

The sweet lady came over and started in on him, mentioning Hillary's wars. He wouldn't hear any more of what she had to say because he didn't believe it, so she left the discussion. He said more than once:

"The problem is that I don't believe what you're saying about Hillary Clinton."

I agreed. That is indeed the problem.

He and millions of other Americans refuse to accept the facts about her. I don't know if it was the alcohol speaking — he seemed to be drinking water — but he then shouted:

"Until it's true, it's just bulls@%t!!"

This left me wondering if he meant until it's proven — or until it appears in the media he listens to?

Or is it until she's actually locked up.

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*how might they react if a man got up and said the same things about Hillary and her daughter?
**the actual differences are: 1) in a sea of corruption around Dilma Rouseff in Brazil, the legislature got her on a rather minor charge (fiddling with economic data); and, 2) guilty of a massive amount of corruption and numerous crimes herself, Hillary may never have the chance to be impeached.
***appearance of which, rolled in on a dolly by an organizer's ten-year-old son, met with great applause earlier.