Trump Fatigue

 

Woke up feeling

So confused.

Wasn’t tired or hungry

or even

feeling used.

But I couldn’t eat.

Nor could I sleep.

After all that’s transpired,

Why am I a live wire?

So I called my doctor

and asked,

“What can it be?

What’s causing

All this fog,

All this misery.”

“Well,” she said,

With the warmest tone.

“For what you’ve got,

I can prescribe 

just one remedy.

It’s not a pill

or something you smoke.

It’s pretty simple

You gotta get woke.

And by that.

I mean you gotta vote.”

First Day

Eyes open.
Shower.

Shave.

Make an espresso.

Trudge to the porch.

Sit in a favorite chair.

Then, just listen.

The coffee is strong.

One foot taps in time

To nature’s rhythm.

To the east, hints of the sun.

It’s not too warm.
Nor is it cold.

You check the phone for messages.

A long overdue acknowledgement has finally arrived.

Kindness begets kindness.

On this first day, 

A simple thank you

Sets the tone.

It might be 24 hours.
It might be a thousand thousand years.

Your first day

in Heaven.