Io non mori’ e non rimasi vivo;
Pensa oggimai per te, s’hai fior d’ingegno
Qual io divenni, d’uno e d’ alter privo
Inferno XXXIV, 22-4
I went to sleep. It was too soon to tell,
Although we all had somewhat of a clue:
Some early signs had shown that Clinton fell,
And yet we hoped the signs were just not true.
We watched with horror and disdain and prayed
That every state in red would turn to blue,
But Donald’s lead was strong: it never swayed
And we felt hopeless, though we hoped in vain.
I went to sleep. I felt sick, chilled, afraid.
Our last-ditch shot at hope prolonged the pain:
Defeat’s warm fingers brushed against my face
And I was blush in disbelief: The reign
Of progress ended in a caucus race.