TRUMP AS A FIRE WITHOUT LIGHT #440

I have been carving his face in butter.  I make cakes when the sugar-ration allows me to.  I dream of pies, but the act of holding can get you marked by his dark followers as a chaser of the light.  I worship the crust of my family.  We stay inside whenever we aren’t marching against the taste of his terrible tide.

By Darren C. Demaree

Biography:

I am the author of six poetry collections, most recently “Many Full Hands Applauding Inelegantly” (2016, 8th House Publishing). I am the Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry.