You’re Going Down

I put your picture in
the compost pile today.

Can’t wait for the worms
to start munching on
your slimey face

You think you can wiggle
out of it
but we have other plans

You refuse to let go,
but America’s finest city
deserves better

You think a two-week rehab will do
the trick

Are you crazy?

Keep your panties on!
It won’t appease us.

An uproar, a recall, the democratic process?

What’s next? Who’s next?

I peek at your face again in the compost bin.
I hope that smirk goes first.

Bob Filner,
Please resign!