An Ode To David Brooks

From the women who marched.

I went to the Women’s March and what did I see
My phone blowing up — David Brooks calling me!

“Sarah, you fool, what are you doing in Sac?
I said, “Letting America know I’ve got its back!

We showed up to protest this scary regime
To make peace on earth real and not just a dream!”

“Can’t you see,” David sputtered, “You’ve got it all wrong—
Big surprise in a state where each owns their own bong.

You shouldn’t be protesting the treatment of women
Or the rising of seas which will leave us all swimming

Women’s rights are just so one-nine-seven-five
Our fine country needs more to keep it alive.

You should all be home reading our Constitution
Have you considered Judeo-Christian based solutions?”

He launched into a treatise on globalization
With each moment his voice rising in smug impatience.

I was ashamed, upset and dismayed.
This genius thought I had lost my way!

This brain trust supporter of ethics and NAFTA.
I thought, “I must do him proud, Oh, I just HAFTA!”

“Oh David,” I cried, “I don’t understand
Please explain to me now how we can save our land.”

He went through it grudgingly issue by issue,
Pausing just once or twice to hand me a tissue.

He ended: “Marching never gets anything done
It’s in Washington that the world’s lost and won!”

I offered dissenting example after example.
He said, “On these my cold logic surely will trample!”

I exclaimed “Please behold this big sea of bodies!
Young, old, black, white, rich, poor, some average, some hotties!

Imperfect, incomplete, like all that comes from man
But surely resembling the start of a plan?”

He offered no more than a withering sigh,
And this caveat: “Of course, no one respects women more than I.”