Dear Trump, my hate for you is evidence based.
My friends, sick, sleepless, dying on the streets,
blood vessel walls pulse, vulnerable, strong hearts beat,
and marching cops slam truncheons into place.
Dear Trump, all your foundations built on sand
are undermined by torrents, swept away.
The fetus of a mountain’s made of clay,
millennia give it birth. Diversity’s hand
makes sparrows swoop through valleys, deer browse crags.
Entitlement? A chance, no more, no less,
a queer, transgender poet’s flowing dress.
You claim you built the peaks, each doe and stag,
all fashioned by your needles: bloody lace.
But no, dear Trump: the world is science-based.
Margaret Corvid is a writer, activist, and former sex worker. Originally from Ohio, she lives in Plymouth, England, and tweets @MargaretLabour
Inspiration: I was inspired to write this as I thought about the contrast of timescales between the progress of science and the ephemeral and reactive tweets of Trump. He, and his walls, will be swept away.