Let Me Tell You a Secret

Let me tell you a secret:  

I don’t really care about the primaries, 

about Iowa, New Hampshire, Nevada, and South Carolina. 

It makes no difference to me  

until they get together behind someone. 

Till then, it’s smoke and mirrors and confusion, 

which helps if it’s the opposition who is confused; 

not so much if it’s my party fumbling in the dark. 

They all have something good to say.  

Of course, you put your best foot (and issue) forward, 

but who can deliver on all those promises? 

(At least they are--we hope-- sincere...) 

But navigating the rocky shoals of Congress with an agenda

isn't easy 

unless you are willing to lie and cheat and steal 

unless you can threaten grown men into submission 

unless you recruit a goon squad to do your bidding. 

(What are you afraid of, Mitch McConnell, that 

imperils you more than the fate of your immortal soul? 

The outcome of an election? Come, now.) 

But I digress. 

If one could pick and choose among them... 

ah, if one only could!..I’d choose Bernie’s fire, 

Pete’s brainpower, Warren’s empathy, Joe’s conviviality, 

Tom’s environment, Mike’s manager’s mind, 

and Amy’s midwestern practicality. 
We need to pick a winner, though,
and that is a knotty problem:
Who? Who will be an indian 
in a roomful of would-be chiefs?

I want to summon to our cause
all that charm, all that earnestness 

all the honesty and character (and have I mentioned 

character?) all that poise and articulate speech, 

And, please, can we get behind someone 
who doesn’t look angry or petulant  

all the time? And who doesn’t yell or tweet or retaliate. 

Someone who would kiss a baby or two and smile, 
who acknowledges that a world exists 
outside the orbit of the 24-hour news cycle 
and the Twitterverse, 
We need someone to be proud of, 
whose voice we turn up, not off;

who respects the electorate, deserving though 
we may or may not be,

because (let me tell you) 

that is the secret: respect:

For opponents, for the voters,

for the office, for yourself.

Sing it, Aretha: loud and strong.  

It’s been too long since we've seen any.