Ode to Rashida Tlaib

Let your voice rise from the podium, grand Opera. O let it flow, carried higher and higher to the stars, voice steeped in empathy, above the shipwrecks of reason, voice raised from between the waves of oppression unleashed with demonic fury, like meteor lights firing the sky like a full moon steeped in beauty. Free men will always cherish your voice, slaves of power will always resent you.