Small Thanks

 

{The phrase that begins this tongue-in-cheek poem, I imagine as being spoken in over-politeness, as in the scene at an open door:  “You first!”  “Oh no, after you!”  “After you!”  “I insist…” etc.  Forgive me for venting my disgust in such a blatantly political way.   And meanwhile, be safe and sane during this highly irregular time.  Thanks for coming by to read!}

 

Don’t thank me, thank you!

Comfort and Mercy, on the way,

No small thanks to me, today,

(With an army or two who works for me.)

Oh, what a dazzling success I’ll be!

With a simple I.O.U.,

You can show your gratitude.

 

Don’t thank me, thank you!

I’ll hog the lectern, strut in style;

(While doctors run the Miracle Mile,

And stretch and stretch and stretch supplies)

The numbers I’ll run through.

And say, it’s never been done before!

And wait, for “ah’s” and “ooh’s.”

 

Don’t thank me, thank you!

The nation’s grateful I’m in power

(and getting grateful-er by the hour,

Waiting, for testing kits.)  You know,

There should’ve been millions. weeks ago!

That miracle never panned out—oh well!

You’ll thank me.  Time will tell.

 

Don’t thank me, thank you!

Thank governors, stepping in the breech;

Thank mayors, reaching what’s out of reach;

Thank hospitals, building capacity;

Thank doctors’ and nurses’ tenacity;

Thank the brave and the bold who keep us afloat.

But please! Don’t thank me with your vote!

 

Copyright 2020 Andrea LeDew