by Brendan Beary

“A Capitol rioter texted his ex during the insurrection to call her a ‘moron,’ feds say. She turned him in.”
—The Washington Post

Oh, never say that I was false at heart—
To see how you defame and vilify
Just steels the resolution on my part
To turn you over to the FBI.
Our love quite long ago had lost its bloom;
How you thought this would change things, I can’t tell.
Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room,
So you’ll do nicely with a prison cell.
For seeing you disparaging me so
Just makes me more determined to resist
Your pleas to reunite; as you must know,
Hell hath no fury like a woman dissed.
Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow,
But let me ask you: Who’s the moron now?