March 2025
A letter to a president
Sometimes it comforts me Knowing the sun will take us all together In the end Enveloping us all in a bright haze of silent fire Nothing will be spared Not the most gentle dog Not the tiniest daisy Not the richest man (hey Elon) Even you Sitting on your throne of lies and manipulation Stuffed
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Among the Trees
The fire crackled sharply as Rosie went to sit down in the armchair where she always sat. The chair’s cushion was blue, robin’s egg-shell blue, paired with dark cherry wood, expertly carved. Engravings of birds and trees swirled around the wood. Something was different today. I felt it strongly. Rosie didn’t seem to notice