Who Owns My Vote?

I came up with this poem on Election Day 2022, as the Midterm Elections in the US began to blanket the morning news. The photo is of me in 2020 with my Bitter Southerner t-shirt, urging everyone to cast their vote.

One odd thing about this election is the number of people running, who seem to question the very system that allows them to gain office.

The idea of overturning the 2020 election, as some seem eager to do, is problematic to me for one simple reason. I can think of no one who holds the power to take away a vote from a person, once they have cast it. Does each voter somehow relinquish ownership of their own vote with the very act of voting, so that the outcome is now subject to manipulation or second-guessing? I think not.

I think a redo would require the consent of all the voters, especially all those who voted for the eventual certified outcome. The noise about questioning the 2020 election, at its heart, relies on the assumption, that a vote, once cast, belongs to whoever is in power, to do with as they see fit.

This poem is an attempt to answer the question once and for all. Who does a vote belong to?

Be sure to use yours.

Who owns my vote?

I held it last

Two years ago:

A blotted sheet

Of legal size,

Though even legal

Minds now use the letter.

Who owns my vote?

Who gets to draw

The hem and haw

Of darkened bubbles?

Who insists

I vote for this–

Or that–dull proposition?

Who owns my vote?

Conspiracies

May darken seas

And roil the waves;

Misinformation,

Fog the issues,

Cause confusion,

Plant despair.

Who owns my vote?

Shrill cries abound:

Apocalypse!

Democracy

Is dying,

Like a baby

In an alleyway,

Neglected.

Who owns my vote?

What power decides

Which choice resides

Within my pen?

Who dictates to me

Where or when

I exercise this fragile right?

Who owns my vote?

Who gets me up

And gets me dressed

And guides my feet–

Or wheels–to this

Vast church gymnasium

Or mason’s lodge?

Who owns my vote?

Who makes me wait

In lines when I

Should be at work

or watching kids

Or sleeping?

Who insists I wait my turn?

Who owns my vote?

What man can change it

Once it’s cast?

Who, rearranging

Districts,

Gerrymandering,

Can make my ballot moot?

Who owns my vote?

Am I beholden

To some golden boy,

Some group? Has all

The secrecy

Protecting me

Left every ballot?

Who owns my vote?

Have wives not cast

Their votes to cancel

Out their man’s,

When their self-interest

So demanded,

Needing no consent?

Who owns my vote,

I ask of you. Is this

A hazing I go through,

To show that I

belong, like you?

Or independent thought?

Who owns my vote?

What power can change it–

After Due Consideration–

Slap me right

Upside my head

And on a whim,

Correct me?

No man can do this.

Only I.

I make the choice–

Or fail — to do

What every citizen should do–

Decide–

Three hundred million strong–

And none corrupt us,

String along

Our harmonies.

We sing one song.

Who owns my vote?

I do.

Copyright 2022 Andrea LeDew

For a look at 1/6/21 shenanigans from a rioter’s point of view, read Great Patriots 1/6/21. For a grim but concise look at the Electoral College and its intended misuse, read Electoral. For the cry of a sore loser stomping his feet, read Stolen. For other political poems and my buildup to the 2020 election, checkout my hashtag Election