Category: Change

Creating a Movement on Flag Day

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Signs from the 7×7 stand-in along El Camino from Palo Alto to Sunnyvale: “IKEA has better cabinets,” “No Kings, More Queens,” “…and to the republic for which it stands…,” “We can all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately- Ben Franklin.”

A beat up World War II jeep sporting a sign: “Fighting facism since 1943.” Honks and thumbs up galore from cars decked out with flags and signs declaring love and approval for the exuberant display of democracy filling the streets. This is what democracy looks like. To would be dictators and syncophants: the people have found a voice.

Another Big, Beautiful Wall

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DOGE riffed Congress. “They’re a waste of space.” The ACLU protested to the Supremes and lost 5-4, in an unsigned opinion. Executive orders are now the law of the land.

His majesty, Donald I, plans to build a “Big, Golden Wall” in the oval office as a backdrop for signing executive orders. He led a column of minions wheeling suitcases filled with gold bars from Fort Knox. He declared, “Forget gold; Bit Coin is the new normal.”

Next up: inefficiency in the court system. DOGE sent layoff notices to all federal court judges, including the Supremes. There are no appeals.

Ode to Kohnan

Photo by Monica McHenney
His eyes were open and stayed that way
Aware and dignified, right up to the end.
A mensch, reserved, not prone to delay, 
Loyal to a fault, on that you can depend.

Saucy he was in the final hours,
Demanded kibble, a last meal at midnight.
Poured out love, licks, and reassurance.

Despite his weak body, his power
Did prolong the end, enough so that we might
Say woof, shed our tears, take one last dance.

He knew it was the end. We, quite sure, thought that he would rally.
He lay quiet, dignified, a friend and most trusted ally.



A Quiet Morning

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Exiled to the backyard,
While inside the termite inspector inspects,
Kohnan limps to the door,
Pleads with liquid brown eyes.
He doesn’t bark; has no energy for that these days.

“He’s friendly.” 
The inspector nods. Kohnan sidles in quietly.
He’s drawn blood.
He can be protective, even with friends.
Not now. Mornings he wakes up slowly in a fog of old age.

He’s at my feet, 
Moving his head to the sound of steps in the attic.
The sun falls in patterns, 
Warms my legs, his arthritic hips.
Warmth is welcome to us both, we’re grateful spring is coming fast.

The News Went Straight to Her Waist

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Elsie was in such a rut. Doomscrolling was her go-to activity. Things changed with an e-mail. She’d won a weekend at a luxury spa. She woke in a fancy hotel, took a yoga class, and had donuts for breakfast with her personal trainer. 

The girl finished her yogurt. “Any trouble spots?”

Her tummy, always her tummy. The mound that amplified her waist had expanded recently. “I want a flatter stomach.” 

”You’re a stress eater.”

“How could you tell?”

The trainer said, “Your T-shirt.”

It said, “Hands off my junk food, you fascist.”

“We’ll start with your social media. Then, pilates.”

Seal Up Evil in a Wooden Box

The Robert A. Heinlein memorial award, in wooden box by Unknown maker is licensed under CC-BY-NC-SA 4.0

Pandora breathed in the garden’s verbena scent. She breathed out a spell to quiet the unicorn and summon the dragon, then she rubbed the genie’s lamp. From the ground, she pulled a box so ancient and filled with grievance that it groaned. 

It had taken centuries to master herself well enough to undo the past. She was ready, with help from her friends, to reverse the mistakes she’d made as an impetuous youth. The four  breathed wishes into the box.

It roiled. Disease, pestilence, greed, slavery, the evils of the world poured in and settled together. Pandora closed the box.

The New Orders

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Inside the church, Doris found a gift shop. A number of books, hats, mugs, and crypto coins stocked the shelves. A wizened old man sat at the counter. “Can I help you?”

Doris said, “Isn’t this the unemployment office?” 

“Everyone is employed. Everyone who wants to be.”

“I was laid off. They gave me this address.”

“What about a Bible? Our thoughts and prayers are in there.” His glassy stare put her off.

“Where can I pray, then?”

”Inside, to the right. There’s a soup kitchen in the basement, too. God be with you.”

The pews were empty, but the soup kitchen was full.

A Doggie Solution

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I had a lover and then we split. He wanted the dog. So did I. I won that fierce argument. The ex settled for visits.

The dog was a steady companion, a good judge of character. He loved us both and told us so with sloppy licks. He sniffed the air in that doggie way that senses tension, anger, sweet innocence. He buried the bones of contention so that we could be friends.

Doggie romped, played, distracted, comforted in the language of liquid eyes and soft tongue against tear stained cheeks. Stayed close, healing pain with sweet and kind attentiveness.

The End of Empire

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Haven’t you heard? The elder statesman is packing. 
Emperor Discord is prancing to Palatine Hill in a red toga. 
He’s promised bread and circuses. 
He’s planning a retro-empire Roman regime.

After the wall comes the coliseum. 
No need to go in person. See pictures on X. 
Read the retweets. Watch Fox trust, they will not verify. 
Comedians, prepare to roast.

The joke’s on us. All the bread is meant for the one percent. 
Even now, they’re pulling up the stakes on the circus tent. 
You’ll find the performers leaving at midnight on the gravy train. 
Ticket  price: unwavering, groveling loyalty.

Bring on the New Year

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Tables filled with tasty foods prepared by friends. The first potluck of the year is already a wild success. There’s news, of course. Travels to far away places. Lost elections; can we ever recover? Some might move. Probably not, though. Too many ties here. Look at this room, these people. They’ve known each other too long to cut and run.

There will be more adventures this new year. More books to read and hikes to take and nights around the television with the dogs snoring at their feet. Babies will be born. The world will grow older and maybe wiser.