Tomorrow at Eight

Mundane adulting tasks accomplished,

wiped my ass without walking off the glass

cliff. Asked, “am I still a middle class white girl?”

“So elite, it’s class not race fool”, string that pearl.

To hyphen or not to hyphen, in this post-truth world...

Alt-right chatbox of deception, consequences of rankability

for generations on fire, replace truth with believability.

Got my list! Did you get yours, middle class white girl?

Alone on streets way out beyond honesty and stability,

everything is wrong. It’s best to ask in this post-truth world...

Republic stands... one district begs to join, three secede

assuming they know, feed on discourse with a dash of empathy.

“Supreme hyphenate, are you still a middle class white girl?”

Constructing truth, crowdsourcing wisdom of the Brexiteer,  

the snowy owls up north debate a fart in parliament.

That’s what’s trending! Feelings trump facts in post-truth politics...

Part her lips hyphens, contractions, social awareness slang;

tomorrow at eight terms woke to love and rain.

Shapely public opinion disavow the middle class white girl!

After the fact ask yourself, “how do the weakest fair?”

Descent to truthiness, reason threatened, popular passions flare!

In a reality-based community the age of facts is over! A quarrelet of pearls,

Refuse to fear the clowns! Data is the Leviathan in this post-truth world...