I DON'T WISH YOU WELL, DONALD

I don't wish you well, Donald.
I don't wish you a speedy recovery.
No hopes and prayers from me, Donald.
None of that baloney.

In my heart, I say

"Die, motherfucker!"

But don't die, Donald,

not just yet, anyway.

I want you to suffer, Donald.

Like the people who suffered

and those two hundred thousand plus

who died

because of you.

I want you to suffer, Donald.

Like the children torn from their parents

who were seeking freedom

in the shining city on the hill

and you jailed them

and sent them back to their suffering.

I want you to experience pain, Donald.

Like the pain of poverty and hunger.

Like the suffering of black and brown bodies

under the choking knee of your

America made great (white), again, and again.

My greatest hope for you, Donald

is that, in the moment before

they shove the ventilator tube

down your throat

you have the terrifying realization

that every person trying to save

your miserable life

is Black or Brown or an immigrant,

and that truth shreds your tiny brain

while you are in a life support stasis. 

Am I being cruel, Donald?

Am I being too mean, Donald?

No, not when it's you

as the subject of my wrath.

You see, Donald, I do want

you to live, at least for awhile.

I want you to experience 

a few more things in life,

such as:

the humiliation of losing

in a great landslide of votes;

(which you will undoubtedly spin

as the greatest, largest, best, most beautiful 

election defeat in history!);

the ordeal of being indicted

and arrested by the State of New York

- in public -

for a long list of financial crimes

(oh, how I wish the ICC would indict you

for crimes against humanity);

the embarrassment of having

your head shaved

as you enter prison

and everyone sees you

for what you are -

an old, broken-down narcissist

con man;

the shame of exposure

as the head of a three-generation

crime family that has

conned its way through life

at the expense and suffering of others;

and the repudiation of everything

you and your Republican

sycophants and enablers,

and your supremacist goons,

and your ultra-rich masters

tried to make our country,

and the fixing of everything

you and yours broke

that turned America away from

our path and towards being

a "shithole country;"

I want you to live, Donald.

I want you to see all of that, Donald.

Because it will enrage you

and bring out the best of

your worst little boy tantrums.

Live long and suffer, Donald.

I don't wish you well, Donald.

I wish you hell, Donald. 

---

pfishman

october 3, 2020