Meant to write Presidential but it came out Pestilential. Dang. – Margaret Atwood

The world disintegrating
Seems to contain only
Perishable pleasures

And sure, we have each other
The final bulwark against
The rising of the hydra’s heads

The beast slouching
– A more belated birth, perhaps,
Than expected –

But every usual escape
From daily cares
Has taken on a monstrous form

The shadows of stories
My sustenance in such times
Wax in warning of the nearing night

And heroes hang their heads
Escaping others’ nooses
And I I I

Am drowning in Necessity
Watch: two heads bloom
For each one severed

One thing that can be said
For the fight against injustice:
No matter how bad the market,

There’s always work to do.