Ode to Pepe the Frog

by Em Power and Elizabeth Thatcher

You were tiny. Green.
You, always sad and stoic,
contemplative, hissing,
a symbol for something
unnamed. Every line in
your face spells out an
incoherent joke, a teen’s
rampant laughter, your
black eyes the light of a
webcam. You, miserably
self-aware. Feels good
God says you weren’t
meant to exist like this. You
can’t help but agree. They
made you hate. You said
you’d rather have died.