donald trump visits sesame street.
Donald Trump visits Sesame Street,
and our childhoods start digging their own graves,
sifting eons worth of earth
outside of Mr. Hooper’s Store
or next to Big Bird’s nest where Radar still sleeps.
The Fix-It Shop, the Arbor, Oscar’s Trash Can
become grave markers for the death of all our youths.
Donald Trump walks down Sesame Street
and the sky is filled with clouds.
The air tastes of putrescence.
There is no sun.
It is a ragged skeleton of everything once held dear.
Donald Trump demands to be greeted by
the Street’s residents, but not Rosita. Not Alan. Not Zari.
Not Kami. Not Nina. Not Roosevelt Franklin.
Just the good Muppets; the respectable humans.
Is that really so much to ask for?
Donald Trump is the first adult since 1985
who cannot see Mr. Snuffleupagus;
just a patch of air that Big Bird seemingly clings to.
Donald Trump says how great it is to see so many smiling faces, but
Elmo is speechless for once.
Zoe and Abby hold hands, eyes glued to pavement.
Super Grover does not come to save the day.
Bert and Ernie do not leave their apartment.
Prairie Dawn takes off the “I’m With Her” button.
Two Headed Monster shakes their heads.
Donald Trump asks Cookie Monster why he isn’t eating any cookies.
Cookie Monster says he lost his appetite,
can’t seem to find it these days.
Donald Trump brings Mike Pence out from the shadows,
and Richard Hunt stirs in his grave.
Donald Trump outstretches his hand to the Grouch,
thinks he's found his equal,
and Oscar prays that Maria comes back to Sesame,
knows how to fix this,
she always knew how to fix what was broken.
Donald Trump says he wants to make Sesame Street great again,
talks about building walls, deporting people who don’t look like him,
and the puppeteers stand above the frame
and the human cast changes out of costume.
Leslie Carrara flips off the sky.
John Tartaglia is suddenly afraid to love.
Sonia Manzano wishes she had never left the show.
Chris Knowings raises his hands in the air.
Suki Lopez calls her mom.
Roscoe Orman flinches off screen.
All the while, no one speaks Jim Henson’s name aloud.
Not in the presence of a monster.
Donald Trump leaves Sesame Street
and the clouds are not swept away,
that smell of rubbish still lingers; the air is not sweet.
The actors and puppeteers collect themselves,
slowly get back into character - they have to.
They know that there are so many children
who are going to need them in the next four years.
They know that there is so much work
to be done.
In which the nerd boys cease their grieving over
the new Star Wars: Rogue One trailer
to state the following plea:
Look,
we don't hate women, but
another lady protagonist?
Really?
Do you honestly expect us to believe
women can deftly fire guns,
wield the Force, captain ships,
protect themselves,
endure, outlast,
survive?
You think this credible fiction?
Who would believe this fantasy?
We were okay with Leia, sure,
because in the end
we still got to see her
wrapped up in chains,
golden bikini splayed;
a princess at her finest.
Wasn't it so much better back then?
Now we are given these
indigestible women
refusing to show boobs or skin
or weakness in character
and we are expected to be okay with this?
We've worked so hard to make sure
women know
that we can take whatever we want,
so they will learn their place
in our fandoms, our lives.
Please stop telling them otherwise.
Please stop telling women
that they too can be the heroes of the story.
Can't you see you are ruining it
for all us nice guys
who never did anything
to deserve this?
Donald Trump visits Sesame Street,
and our childhoods start digging their own graves,
sifting eons worth of earth
outside of Mr. Hooper’s Store
or next to Big Bird’s nest where Radar still sleeps.
The Fix-It Shop, the Arbor, Oscar’s Trash Can
become grave markers for the death of all our youths.
Donald Trump walks down Sesame Street
and the sky is filled with clouds.
The air tastes of putrescence.
There is no sun.
It is a ragged skeleton of everything once held dear.
Donald Trump demands to be greeted by
the Street’s residents, but not Rosita. Not Alan. Not Zari.
Not Kami. Not Nina. Not Roosevelt Franklin.
Just the good Muppets; the respectable humans.
Is that really so much to ask for?
Donald Trump is the first adult since 1985
who cannot see Mr. Snuffleupagus;
just a patch of air that Big Bird seemingly clings to.
Donald Trump says how great it is to see so many smiling faces, but
Elmo is speechless for once.
Zoe and Abby hold hands, eyes glued to pavement.
Super Grover does not come to save the day.
Bert and Ernie do not leave their apartment.
Prairie Dawn takes off the “I’m With Her” button.
Two Headed Monster shakes their heads.
Donald Trump asks Cookie Monster why he isn’t eating any cookies.
Cookie Monster says he lost his appetite,
can’t seem to find it these days.
Donald Trump brings Mike Pence out from the shadows,
and Richard Hunt stirs in his grave.
Donald Trump outstretches his hand to the Grouch,
thinks he's found his equal,
and Oscar prays that Maria comes back to Sesame,
knows how to fix this,
she always knew how to fix what was broken.
Donald Trump says he wants to make Sesame Street great again,
talks about building walls, deporting people who don’t look like him,
and the puppeteers stand above the frame
and the human cast changes out of costume.
Leslie Carrara flips off the sky.
John Tartaglia is suddenly afraid to love.
Sonia Manzano wishes she had never left the show.
Chris Knowings raises his hands in the air.
Suki Lopez calls her mom.
Roscoe Orman flinches off screen.
All the while, no one speaks Jim Henson’s name aloud.
Not in the presence of a monster.
Donald Trump leaves Sesame Street
and the clouds are not swept away,
that smell of rubbish still lingers; the air is not sweet.
The actors and puppeteers collect themselves,
slowly get back into character - they have to.
They know that there are so many children
who are going to need them in the next four years.
They know that there is so much work
to be done.
In which the nerd boys cease their grieving over
the new Star Wars: Rogue One trailer
to state the following plea:
Look,
we don't hate women, but
another lady protagonist?
Really?
Do you honestly expect us to believe
women can deftly fire guns,
wield the Force, captain ships,
protect themselves,
endure, outlast,
survive?
You think this credible fiction?
Who would believe this fantasy?
We were okay with Leia, sure,
because in the end
we still got to see her
wrapped up in chains,
golden bikini splayed;
a princess at her finest.
Wasn't it so much better back then?
Now we are given these
indigestible women
refusing to show boobs or skin
or weakness in character
and we are expected to be okay with this?
We've worked so hard to make sure
women know
that we can take whatever we want,
so they will learn their place
in our fandoms, our lives.
Please stop telling them otherwise.
Please stop telling women
that they too can be the heroes of the story.
Can't you see you are ruining it
for all us nice guys
who never did anything
to deserve this?
Julia Gaskill is a writer, photographer, and professional daydreamer hailing from Portland, Oregon. Most recently, Julia competed in the 2016 Individual World Poetry Slam (Flagstaff, AZ) and the 2016 Women of the World Poetry Slam (Brooklyn, NY). Her work has been featured on FreezeRay Poetry, Thirteen Myna Birds, Rising Phoenix Review, Front Row Central, and Voicemail Poems. It goes without saying that she loves Muppets more than you. Find her work at http://geekgirlgrownup.tumblr.com
