Rob Tannahill

To MAGA: Sincerely, The Radical Left

The MAGA movement

At heart

Is made up

Of chickenshits

Who know they were wrong

And can't admit it

So

Like pissed-off teenagers

They have to overcompensate

By running

That white-hot

Mouth-driven

Prefrontal lobe

All the way

To victory

Or the grave.

I saw

One of their podcasters

Misread a Jesse Welles song

I saw

One of their podcasters

Introduce

Masturbation to Prime Time

I saw

One of their podcasters

Celebrating Hitler

I saw

One of their podcasters

Arrested for SA

I saw--how can you not?

This doesn't

Bode well for you, Maga.

I saw

Their dog-murdering

Ice Queen

Used

By Chris Murphy

To mop

The floor

And I saw

Stephen Miller

Spray petrol

On the writ of habeas corpus

(he's looking for his lighter)

I see

That Jasmine Crockett

Seems aptly named

With her unflinching

definace in the face

Of Lauren Boebert's

Provincial indignance

And see

That Bernie is doing

What he's always done

This time, with AOC

She has long lusted

For your heads on a plate

And now

That you've been called out

On your obvious fascism

You're crying

About radical leftists

And their intolerance.

You!

The most foul-thinking

Plebs on the planet

Who used the internet

To flood the world with so much snark

It will take 50 years

For us to stop hating each other

Over bathrooms, cyclists

And baseball caps

And any number of other dingbatteries

That don't mean a damn thing

To the price of your bills

Like whether or not

Someone you'll never even meet

Is on food stamps

While Trump spends 10 billion

On planes that aren't even ours.

Our intolerance is

Of rising prices

Of trade wars

Of bigotry

Of genocide

Of dead kids

Of religious tyranny

Of nauseating lies

Of Neuralink

Of the police state

Of dystopia

Of cruelty

Of tribal irrationality

Of New Eugenics

Of the Little Horn

With his face and his false wound

Parading around like a man of God.

More like Randall Flagg

And the Economy's savior hasn't done squat

Except fire people,

Bully Canada,

And make it cool to beat protestors

But since we're angry

At this blanket slap in the face

Delivered happily--HAPPILY!

By the bourgeois

To everyone living in the production sphere

Which means you, too, MAGA

What once were snowflakes

Are now the New Intolerant

Radicals.

Perhaps just freer than you're ready

for--

You don't want a free country.

You want a space where it's cool for you to puff up your chest and wax blowhard for an ego-hit. You don't care about freedom, or any blood save for your own.

I posit

That you will never

Be able to admit

How foolish and naive you look

While your chosen ones

Crash helicopters

Fuck over the disenfranchised

And cut the bootstraps off

Everyone they admonished to do pullups

While they

Drunk text National Security

Secrets on a Sext App

And send upstanding citizens

To Gulag

Under the false pretense

Of a gang tattoo

(what I saw weren't gang tattoos)

They will never

Understand

That what we feel isn't intolerance

It's disgust

Which is exactly what they should be feeling

I would tell any one of them

It makes more sense to forgive you

Than fight you

Otherwise

And it will be on your hands

And in your court, MAGA

You may find

The times get quite shaking

When snowflakes become avalanches.

You were wrong, MAGA.

You didn't make anything great.

You made it shit.

Consider

All the blood you

Yes, even you

Mr. Proletarian Trump Voter

And the rest of the world would avoid

If you'd just admit

You fucked up--we've all done it!

And help us do away

With the swine who swindled you.