A Beat (a dead horse) Poem.
Because it’s 2015, our cabinet is diverse; we have spices like Saffron, and curry powder.
Because it’s 2015, weed is almost legal; for now we keep it in David’s Tea tins.
Because it’s 2015, there’s an app for that; unless you’re looking for non-white dudes on Grindr in Kingston. But Toronto’s Grindr? That’s 50 Shades of Gay. 
Because it’s 2015, Stephen Harper gets flack for calling honour killings a barbaric cultural practices. More because it’s hypocritical than that it’s inaccurate. 
Because it’s 2015, freedom of speech exists, but consequence of speech does too. For example, sometimes I have to let people know I don’t give a shit, and then they get pissed.
Because it’s 2015, I can fact-check Ben Carson’s statements. Not because I give a political shit, but because it’s entertaining.
Because it’s 2015, Mountain Dew has yet to be discontinued. I wish I didn’t have to live in a world where Mountain Dew made it and Cherry Cola only seasonally made it. 
Because it’s 2015, I won’t be burned at the stake, but that means we had to give up watching other people burn at the stake. Fair enough. 
Because it’s 2015, there are pugs who are inexplicably better known than most Ministers of Parliament.
Because it’s 2015, we can bring back mustaches. Whether we should or not remains an open question. 
Because it’s 2015, I should know better than to make a long-ass poem full of tacky repetition. And I do, but I did it anyways. 
Because it’s 2015 - Justin Trudeau.