Weekly poem on Trump Presidency


Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home,
    ~ after an old English nursery rhyme


your house, your children burning
your babies’ mouths so wide
you can’t see the rest of them.

I saw that Trump boy at the base of your tree –
all the neighbors’ mailboxes emptied.
A long impatience with a magnifying glass,
his mouth a concentrated O.
Kitchen matches pulled from pockets,
some too damp to catch. He struck
and struck till he got a spark, piled on
statements and payments, TV Guides
and True Confessions, voter cards,
union cards, Social Security checks,
requests for donations
from St. Something or Other.
A money order from Aunt Suzy
for her niece’s sixth birthday –
a dollar per year.

Bark charred and smoldering.
Paper flaming red, flaming orange.
Let’s Clean House with IKE and DICK
placards curling against the trunk. 

Wings on fire….


Mikki Aronoff’s work has appeared in The Lake, EastLit, Virga, Love Like Salt, Weaving the Terrain, Rise Up Review, Trumped!, bosque7, Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine, The Ekphrastic Review, SurVision, and elsewhere. A New Mexico poet, she is also involved in animal advocacy.


illustration:  anna_croc01

illustration: anna_croc01