marching

Last Saturday, along with millions of other people around the world, I marched. The posse here - four strong - mazed our bodies, voices, and signs through the labyrinth of betOnest in order to march in solidarity with millions of other people around the globe in protest of Donald Trump. It felt important and inspiring - to show up from so far away in the company of friends; to shout "Jeden Tag! Fuck Trump! Ganzen Tag! Fuck Trump!" (Every day! Fuck Trump! All day! Fuck Trump!); to vent our fury by taking abandoned wooden structures littered around the property and breaking them over steel and concrete; to throw things, kick things, and dance on things to the driving beat of protest music humming on a portable speaker; and to build a fire and in it burn planks of wood on which we first wrote, "Trump," "The Patriarchy," "White Supremacy," and "Prison Industrial Complex." Marching, yelling, laughing, and being together in sadness defined our time, and it was good.