12/8/2016 After the Election by Amy ForstadtAfter the Election The day after, I make brownies. I know the recipe by heart. I measure salt, sugar, flour. All the white ingredients in careful spoons and cups. How much distress? I wonder. How much panic? But I can’t dole out calamity a half-‐cup at a time. I swallow it whole. Two days after, my nine-‐year-‐old son says, “I don’t think people loved Trump. I think people hated Hillary so much.” Later he watches TV. I point out the Asian character and say, “He’s a stereotype. People don’t talk that way.” And it feels like enough. Three days after, if my phone is a boat I use to sail the dark waters of the news, then Facebook, Twitter and Instagram are sirens singing, luring me to my own demise. I don’t resist. I crash right into social media. Steering strong and straight into the disaster, I give up without a fight. Four days after, my boyfriend closes his Facebook account and I cry. Five days after, a small and terrible voice inside me asks, “Wait, am I still hot enough to be groped?” Then a second voice pipes up, “At least you’re still Jewish!” We all have a good laugh. Then both voices go quiet because they’re scared. Six days after, I want a manicure. Then feel guilty. That money should go to the ACLU. Or Planned Parenthood. Or NARAL. But I tell myself the salon ladies, with their yellow smocks and angry languages need money too. Which makes my mani-‐pedi a show of solidarity. Right? The woman I get is new. Nervous. She cradles my fingers like precious pearls when really it’s just my stupid nails. Patience patience, I think. This is not personal. This is not personal. I tip her well and hope she’s legal. I leave the salon and wander into the bright sun and stand there. I take a few steps one way then another. A week after the election I’m walking in circles outside the mani-‐pedi place, my shiny blue toenails going around and around and around while the people of the world pass by, going to wherever they live, if they can find it, if it’s still there. ![]() Bio: Amy Forstadt’s writing has appeared in Pif, 300 Days of Sun, and Entropy Magazine. Other writing credits include Disney Online Originals, Nickelodeon, The Hub, and Animal Planet. She lives in Los Angeles with her son and two insane cats.
Cheryl Roberts
12/8/2016 04:36:59 pm
Amazing !!! So proud of you 😘😍 12/9/2016 10:15:10 am
Amy - This is a great poem. Thank you for posting it. We all need to keep writing our poems, breathing, looking for home. Comments are closed.
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