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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

Election Night
.
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.

.

—Marwan, 2016

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