Last Thursday, Daily KOS staff member Walter Einenkel published this diary about a Proud Boy in jail and afraid he’s going to lose his gummint benefits. It inspired me to dash off a bit of nonsense using the first stanza of John Donne’s Death Be Not Proud.
I got an unexpectedly generous response to it (94 recs!) and decided I’d go back and continue with the remainder of Donne’s short poem. Having done so, I wasn’t sure I liked it, and second guessed my decision — maybe I should have quit after the first stanza. But I got some encouragement from community member neimann, so what the Hell...
Boys, be not Proud
(with apologies to John Donne)
Boys, be not Proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Remain still, poor Boys, nor yet canst thou impress me.
From Tweet and IG, where thy Capitol pictures be,
Much evidence; then from thee salt tears must flow,
And soonest our worst men with thee do go,
Resting in cells, no longer free.
Thou art slave to Trump, cosplay, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And soda pop or Lucky Charms can make thee fat as well,
And give thee risk of stroke; yet swell'st thou then?
Failed coup past, we wake eternally
Thy Pride shall be no more; Boys, thou shalt cry.
