Bernie in Sacramento
Standing sunbaked for hours,
achy feet, people in the streets.
lazing in the grass, getting sunburned,
hiding cross legged in the shade of the masses,
waving signs about revolution and a better future.
I think I found the hippie vote.
The people who care if you and I can stay a float.
I’m in. Bring it.
Overheard in the crowd,
“The music here is so good.
The people are so nice.
The hippies are back.
Yeah, songs—that really makes us dangerous!”
That felt so much like home
that I almost want to say
it was a spiritual experience.
Gathered in a sea of thousands,
singing songs about peace and freedom,
lead by solo acoustic guitarists,
and one who used his violin pizzicato.
We are the troublemakers,
says one speaker,
a euphemism for leader,
Bernie enters the scene
soundtracked by Springsteen,
and waxes on about how to make our country a better place
for all people of all varieties,
with better treatment and opportunity for all,
and asks you to believe in the impossible and work towards it—
towards a more hopeful future,
keeping the dream alive.
In a world so corrupt,
doing the right thing seems revolutionary.
An honest politician,
consistently serving the people,
uniting across boundaries—
what a rarity!
Among the mass parking lot exodus onto starscaped highways,
I left, uplifted, inspired, and praying for a miracle,
for the hope of the first Jewish president.
I left, truly feeling the Bern.
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