NovPoWriMo 4

Finding it hard to believe 
the poem I wrote a year ago
about waiting for votes to be counted
would count for so little
a little more than a year later
but then it wasn’t just about
counting votes as yet uncounted
but counting all the souls lost
to a novel coronavirus
we had only just gotten around to
wearing masks to prevent
and the number back then was
an order of magnitude less than
it is now as announced blithely
on the National Public Radio
as 750,000 a number which by now
they don’t even bother comparing to
like the number of casualties
in all the wars the so called United
States participated in combined
almost as if we have forgotten
how to count in the mean time
how to save tax dollars by offering
fewer social services no one
got accustomed to taking for granted
so therefore they won’t know what
they’re missing so they’ll vote for
the opposite party just to shake things up
just to send a message to the obstructionists
they are on their side all you have to do
is count the years you’ve been alive
and divide them by election years
even off election years no need to be on
and you’ll see the end game in sight
since you were born nothing has trickled
down no one’s counting those numbers
no one can even visualize a trillion
just a lot of numbers we might remember
if in your distracted sleep deprived state
you remember to google another string
of adjectives in search of a noun
another year down unannounced
who knows what number counts next