TRUMP AS A FIRE WITHOUT LIGHT #427
By Darren C. Demaree

There’s always been a casual appreciation for the American criminal that gets away with it. This feels different than that. I don’t see a charming movie star playing Donald Trump as he gets the girl for one great night after his second to last score. I don’t think we’ll ever care that he steals a kiss on the Jersey Shore before his gang brings him back for one more score that ends in his arrest or his death. Nobody in my life is secretly rooting for the Nazis or the White Nationalists or the religious police to find a single moment of joy. This guy isn’t Al Capone. He’s not Hitler either, but he’s fine listening to Hitler whisper his most favorite of dreams. We are not going to need a happy ending to this movie, but we’re going to need it to be as short as possible.

TRUMP AS A FIRE WITHOUT LIGHT #428

By Darren C. Demaree

Birds eat other birds because flight can’t always be the best thing in the world. America, we had flight, and we chose to eat other birds instead. What does any of this have to do with our singing?

TRUMP AS A FIRE WITHOUT LIGHT #429
By Darren C. Demaree

The belly doesn’t swallow. The belly holds the weight. That’s all it can do while the enzymes slowly work on each meal. Every day I am feeling like the belly of America. This doesn’t hurt, but I am never comfortable.

Darren C. Demaree is the author of six poetry collections, most recently Many Full Hands Applauding Inelegantly (2016, 8th House Publishing). He is the Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry. He currently lives and writes in Columbus, Ohio, with his wife and children.