Super Tuesday, 2020

Summary

The web content is a reflective poem by Jenny Justice titled "Super Tuesday, 2020," which contemplates the state of society, politics, and social movements.

Abstract

Jenny Justice's poem "Super Tuesday, 2020" delves into the feelings of disillusionment and weariness with contemporary political and social landscapes. The author questions the effectiveness of current feminism and progressivism, suggesting that they may have become hollow mantras. The poem reflects on the act of voting as a desperate hope for change, despite the sacrifices made by many for the right to vote. It criticizes the complacency of living within societal constraints, likening it to living in a box that some are content to decorate rather than question. The poem also touches on the performative aspect of protests and the detached horror with which society views the burning down of institutions, both literally and metaphorically.

Opinions

The author expresses a sense of disillusionment with the current state of feminism, viewing it as a superficial form of empowerment without genuine substance.
Progressivism is critiqued as being overly simplified to the point of being a corporate-friendly slogan, "blue no matter who."
Voting is portrayed as an act of resignation, where the weight of historical struggles is placed on the hope that the tally will reflect past sacrifices.
The poem suggests that society is trapped in a metaphorical box, with many people uninterested in exploring or questioning the world outside their comfort zone.
Protests are depicted as being confined to "permitted streets" and followed by brunch, implying a lack of genuine commitment or impact.
There is a sense of fatigue and boredom with the current state of affairs, described as "exhaustingly boring."
The author reflects on a pervasive sense of horror as institutions burn, whether as a metaphor for societal decay or as a literal event, indicating a deep concern for the direction in which society is heading.

A Poem

I’m not sure what the answer is, things shake, walls close in

and it is boring — most of all

it is all just so damn exhaustingly boring. Was it better in the past, was there hope then? For what, I

don’t know because look where it got us, look at this now

feminism means do what you want no matter what it is and label it crass empowerment,

progressivism means blue no matter who, corporations smile and nod at this mantra

voting means throwing up your hands and hoping things that people fought for died for lived for cried for

somehow tally up. We live in a box.

No matter what clicks this or that way, we live in box and some people are okay with it

they just want to paint it, decorate it, never ask about what might be outside, or what other shapes might exist, four walls, squared, squeezing

we protest in the permitted streets, sure, on a weekend, and then we go for brunch

we watch eyes glazed, in our new state of consistent horror as things burn down,

metaphorically or on actual ground.

Jenny Justice, Poet. Author of Love in the Time of Climate Change and Reveal. You can read more of her poetry at Justice Poetic. Sign up for her newsletter here.

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