Haven’t posted much poetry recently, but here’s a poem in honor of January 20th:

 

My silence matches yours

 

Waking early from a bankrupt

dream in which my broker sold

short and lost me everything,

I got up early, 5 a.m., even

though a Saturday, the 20th

of January, one year

to the day into the Trump

experience, wiser

now, in no hurry to check

the news feed to see if

the latest crisis, a government

shutdown, has been averted.

The house looks the same

as it did a year ago

when I moved in

but the kitchen needs

cleaning and I already want

to move out.