Mr. Voted-In-The-Off-Year — School Board Race

Lyrics

[Intro]
First Tuesday after the first Monday. 
November.
The news vans are all somewhere else today.
Just the hum of the lights in the Northwood Elementary gym.
Smells like floor wax and old basketballs.

[Verse 1]
Seven-oh-three in the morning.
He pushes the heavy door, a squeak of metal.
A woman in a faded blue sweater looks up from her book.
She nods. A small, quiet thing.
She knows his type.
The ones who show up when the cameras don't.
He signs the ledger. The same looping signature as last year, and the year before that.

[Chorus]
This is the race nobody covers.
The quiet Tuesday morning ballot.
This is the civic muscle, exercised in the silence.
For the school board, the water commission, the names on the bottom line.
This is the work that gets done when no one is watching.

[Verse 2]
The booth is just cardboard and plastic.
A temporary chapel for a permanent idea.
He unfolds the long sheet of paper.
All these names he spent last night looking up.
Who believes in the library? Who will fix the potholes on Elm Street?
The pen is tied to the shelf with a piece of cheap string.
He fills in the little circles, one by one. A steady hand.

[Chorus]
This is the race nobody covers.
The quiet Tuesday morning ballot.
This is the civic muscle, exercised in the silence.
For the school board, the water commission, the names on the bottom line.
This is the work that gets done when no one is watching.

[Bridge]
The big show comes every four years.
All shouting and signs and a horse race on TV.
But this is the ground floor. 
This is the plumbing.
This is who decides if they build the park, or close the branch.
He knows maybe twenty percent will show up today. The rest are "too busy."
So he figures his vote has to count for five.
He carries their weight on his shoulders.

[Outro]
He feeds the paper into the machine.
A quiet whir, a soft electronic beep. It's done.
The woman offers him a sticker. "I Voted."
He smiles, takes it. Pockets it for his kid.
He pushes the heavy door again.
Out into the cold November air.
The day is just starting. 
His work is already done.