If Wednesday Doesn’t Exist

On Sunday morning, 

I voted

early in the autumn chill.

But in my town, the name promoted 

wouldn't care to see me killed. 

On Monday night, 

I cried

unsure of what more could be done. 

Will more children be made to hide

because their classmate brought a gun?

On Tuesday, 

           (today)

I tried

to be hopeful and tune out the noise 

of all the parents that take too much pride

in what clothing their child enjoys.

This first Tuesday in November

feels like the end of times,

haunted with pre-polls and posters 

of aged faces and slogan signs. 

I remember back in 2020, 

my professor nervously said,

“It might be all for the best

if Wednesday doesn’t exist.”

Now four years down the line, 

we’re just as restless,

and still their words ring through my mind:

If Wednesday doesn’t exist—