I know.
It’s been almost three -almost three years of Trump and utter political and emotional exhaustion.
I slapped my pussy hat on my head, laced my Doc Martens & marched. It felt that a new year was not January 1 but that day in January when we, or rather U.S., took a a dive into the abyss.
What is there to say? What hasn’t been said over and over-hashed out, thrashed about- ideas about how to survive this assault on reason and democracy.
I am hemorrhaging hope. It’s almost as if the veins are dried and withered. Nothing left to spare.
Ok.
I’ve vented.
Now it’s time to expel the toxic mass out of the White House.
bronxpoet 