On the edge

I awoke from a dream where I was trying to escape from a huge underground construction site. Filled with two story machines grinding, exploding, digging away in tunnels that snaked around everywhere under my grandmother's house.

I was sorry I could no longer find the basement steps, or the dirt room, sorry I had gone down there looking for pumpkins to use with the poverty stricken preschool visiting us in the ramshackle kitchen and collapsing house above.

I think my dreams are mirroring the disaster the world is now. A place where I drive through a fast food place for breakfast and the woman taking the money in the window practically weeps with sorrow for the soldiers Trump is sending off to war while Australia's animals burn.

There is no peace on earth anymore. The devil leading the Evangelicals like sheep to the slaughter waves his gold club in one hand while tripping over his spiked tail and tweeting like a deranged cuckoo. The hyenas and  jackals are ashamed to be associated with the whiney bullies leading the senate with their double chins and sly smiles.

Bestest says there is comfort in the fact that more good people voted Democrat than Republican even though they did not win. He says we should draw hope from that fact that means more good people than bad exist.

Right now that feels like shaky comfort. If there is a god he might just look at this mess and say, "To hell with humanity."