United We Stand

Fiorella is heartened by the way the anti-Trump movement has come together with each person working in his own way. Fio uses FB and her blog, posting comments, responses, and poems. Others march or strike or continually contact their congressmen. Others sign petition after petition.  The intelligence community and news media keep insisting on telling the truth. And political cartoonists, comic strip writers, and TV satirists have reduced the situation to its basic absurdity.

Trump may be the first president laughed out of office.

Prospective Projects

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the ever-busy Fio is going great guns.

First of all, Fio has finally come up with a method to compare and contrast the two major photos she now has of her ggmother Kate, the ones that look like they're of two different people.  She's planning to photocopy both pictures, enlarge the photocopies, then measure the lengths of the faces down the middle and their widths across the cheekbones. 

Another item on Fio's list is framing an 8"x40" digital painting by Younger Son.  Needless to say, Hobby Lobby doesn't carry frames of the appropriate size so Fio will have to improvise.  (Improvise,  as you know by now, is Fiorella's middle name. )

To top it off, Fio's decided to put together a booklet of her poems similar to the one she put together in memory of Wendy Dog. Not all of her poems, of course, just the personal ones--the ones that hurt.

She'll provide timely updates.

Depressive

At the Beach

At dawn I walk the ocean's edge
To find my place along the shore,
The place where I will sit all day
And sculpt my kingdom made of dreams
Until the evening tide returns
And sinks my castle built on sand.



Depression

I pull it 'round me like a cloak of null,
This numbing void, this fine despair of mine,
A somber blanket folded thrice to dull
The knife-sharp edges of my dark decline.
I need a nothingness, a time of naught,
A comfort place, an anesthetic buffer,
To suffocate my sense, my every thought,
For if I do not feel, I cannot suffer.
For if I do not try, I cannot fail,
And if I do not care, I'll have no pain,
And if I do not trust, then no betrayal
Can pierce my unprotected heart again.
And if I do not hope, then no defeat
Can mortify me in this sweet retreat.

Manic

Kamikaze

I'm flying on wings of wax
Right on up to the sun
Watch out, Icarus!
Here comes another one!




Reeling

I'm drunk on the wine of glory
I'm red-nosed and wobbly and gay
So what if I die tomorrow
At least I have lived for today!