A Poem for E. Jean Caroll

The orange menace must pay her $83 million for one of his innumerable crimes

My Fellow Democracy Defenders,

Women will save our sacred democracy from fascist predators. E. Jean Carroll has shown us what bravery looks like as she continues her fight against the orange menace. She has inspired me to write a poem, similar to other stunning women such as Heather Cox Richardson, Jasmine Crockett, Karen Bass, and Kamala Harris. I hope that my partner will also win her lawsuit against the MAGAts after the wrongfully fired her from her DEI civil service career. Your support will help us endure through these difficult times.

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The gavel fell, a sound like stone,
On lies he built to shield his throne.
Eighty-three million, the number declared,
A truth, long suppressed, now fully aired.

E. Jean Carroll, a name now etched in flame,
Against the roaring torrent of his shame.
She did not wield a sword, but simple fact,
A courage brutal forces could not retract.

He thought his bluster, his corrosive sneer,
Could make a nation’s better conscience disappear.
He summoned storms of hate, of mocking rage,
To turn the final, damning, truthful page.

But in the hall where justice weighs the breath,
Her quiet strength pronounced a civil death
Upon the fable of his frail disguise,
And pulled the fascist mask from his eyes.

For fascism is the bully’s weak demand
To place his fist above the law’s firm hand.
It’s fear of judges who are not afraid,
And sunlight on the mess that he has made.

So let him rant and post in bitter night,
She stands within a newly fortified light.
A judgment paid can never be the sum;
She won the moment silence was struck dumb.

She owns not him, but something far more vast:
The future that his hatred overcast.
She owns the truth he could not bend or break,
The stand she took for every victim’s sake.