#308 The Chamber of the Barley

It's a natural cycle. The
bird waits for the snow
to melt, for the water to
irrigate the land, for the
grain to grow, to ripen.

Then it swoops down, to
gorge. We hide in a cave, &
wait for the bird to find its
fullness, to retreat to its peak,
replete, to wait through winter.

#307 The Art of Living

The orange people
used to be every-
where. Now only
a few scattered centers
are left. All small,
except, of course, for
Donald Trump, the
center of the universe,

with his swollen head
& disconnected brain.
The body transformed
by a business suit; but his
face still stained from the
clothes he wore before.