Political Suicide Note (By Walter Beck)

Political Suicide Note
(By Walter Beck)

For Governor Mike Pence

You locked yourself in your office
Far from the press and public;
And in the company of friends
You signed your political suicide note
On a rainy Thursday morning.

You signed your political suicide note
Surrounded by preachers and priests;
They blessed you and blessed your pen,
You misguided martyr.

You poor misguided martyr,
You couldn’t stop the wedding bells from ringing;
And they kept ringing, ringing, ringing,
Ringing in your head,
Ringing and grating in your head.

Oh like a dime store Paul Kersey,
Like a junk store Dirty Harry;
You wanted revenge,
You wanted to stop the ringing,
With the front door dead bolted shut
You got set to blow out the back door.

Blow out the back door
And take it down piece by piece,
Take it down with a little back room dealing,
A little fool-proof plan,
To stop the ringing of the wedding bells
And have the state say again
“Queers ain’t welcome here!”

A little fool-proof plan,
A little back-rooming dealing,
A little laurel in your crown
To show you’re still a true blue conservative.

But just how fool-proof was that plan
When the shit started to hit the fan
Before your signature was even dry?
How fool-proof was that plan
When the conventions started to pull out
And the bands started to cancel?
How fool-proof was that plan
When the businesses started to shutter their doors
And other states were telling you they would stay away?

How fool-proof was your plan
When on a sunny Saturday afternoon
Thousands flooded the lawn of your office
And called for you to leave?
How panicked did you get
When the local news stations and national networks
Started rolling film
Of thousands of Hoosiers
Waving signs and rainbow flags
And cursing your name?

Oh you were getting paranoid,
Stammering to a reporter from the Indianapolis Star
That it was all just a misunderstanding,
That the internet was out to get you,
That there was a conspiracy against you.

You’re paranoid,
Sweaty eyed and shaking,
Repeating that everybody got it wrong,
It’s just a misinterpretation,
We just need to let you explain it a little more.
Still stammering out your frenzied pleas
As your closest allies in the statehouse
Leave you to dust
And this state is left to rot.

Oh Governor
With the thousands on the street
Calling for you to leave,
And thousands of millions of dollars
Going up in smoke,
And thousands of reporters
Dragging you through the front pages,

Was it all worth it
On a rainy Thursday morning
When you locked yourself away from the public’s eye
And signed your political suicide note?