(post copyright 2016, Dawn Weber)
In a wee-tiny rural town,
There's really no doubt about it,
I'm the only tree-hugger around.
Election Day in 2008,
I hit the town polls at dawn,
To cast my vote for the black guy,
Though I dare not tell anyone.
"Too late," I thought as I entered,
A parking lot filled up with trucks,
"My vote was canceled 30-odd times,
Before I even woke up."
Somehow he won it despite this,
Next time he won it again,
And so it's been eight years of,
Ducking from the Republicans.
But I own a Volkswagen Beetle,
Which might as well be a float,
That says, "Shoot me, I'm a liberal!"
As I drive past the cows and the goats.
See me signing all the petitions,
And giving my cash to hobos,
Watch me sobbing my hippie-chick eyes out,
At dead polar bear videos.
This aside, I'm just as rural,
As any-a-one of them,
I like beer and pickups and, Lord help me,
I’m a closeted Luke Bryan fan.
But they don't know what to make of me,
They don't really know what to say,
I'm the world's only redneck liberal,
I think they wish I'd go away.
So I generally keep my big mouth shut,
I try very hard to keep peace,
No one will change their mind anyway,
No one -- but especially me.
Still, this worrisome prospect of Trump,
Really has me scratching my head,
He's a sexist, unqualified, bigot . . .
Oh wait. Never mind. I just got it.
I would not say that to them though,
I hate noise and shouting and drama,
It's sure been a rough eight years though,
And for that I say, Thanks, Obama.