​Thanksgiving, 2016

Across the table
a storm is breaking.

From outside, the sound of heil.


Beneath Trump Tower

​Deep beneath New York City, encased in the foundations of Trump Tower, is buried a gold-gilded mirror.

He’s spent his life raging, blustering and bullying against it. He can’t destroy it and he knows he must, one day, look into it. On that day Donald will, slowly and painfully, acknowledge the small man staring silently back.

The Drumf

Today, Donald Trump threw a crying child and it’s mother out of a rally he was speaking at. This is a bedtime story for that child, and all others who are scared by his rhetoric of hate.

The Drumf

Once the sun had gone down, then The Drumf came to town.

The Drumf shouted, it screamed and it wailed.

Such a terrible sound. People rushed from their bed.

The Drumf saw they were scared. It was glad.


“Don’t be scared,”said The Drumf, “don’t be frightened of me.

I’ll tell you the thing you should fear.

I’ve seen It, It’s horrible! It is scared of The Drumf.

And It’s in the next town. Over There.”


Well, The Drumf it had made all the folk so afraid

they joined The Drumf in it’s anger.

Then The Drumf marched them, scared, to the Town Over There.

And there The Drumf shouted for longer.


“Don’t be scared,”said The Drumf to the Over There folk.

But… There is something to be scared of.

I’ve seen It. It’s fiercesome! Such a horrible sight.

It jumped out at The Drumf in the night.”


The Drumf led all the folk to the Next Town over,

Next Town was where Orlando lived.

In the center of town, the scared folk all around,

The Drumf wailed and it screamed and it kicked.


The Next Town folk came out at the screams of The Drumf.

They were scared by the hullabaloo.

They saw just how scared were the folk of Over There.

And the folk of Town One were scared, too.


“You’re afraid,”said The Drumf, “But don’t be scared of me.

I am here and I’ll keep you from harm.

I’ve seen It, It’s wicked! With it, The Drumf tussled.

Keep you safe, will The Drumf. Keep you huddled.”


“What are you scared of?” Orlando asked of The Drumf,

and The Drumf looked quite taken aback.

“Seen It!” The Drumf shouted. “Bad thing. Very scary.”

It slithers, crawls, creeps on It’s belly.”


“But what are your scared of?” Asked Orlando again.

The Drumf hopped from one foot to other.

“I’ve seen It. Just believe me,” repeated The Drumf.

“I’m right. Of this, there can be no doubt.

It is angry and terrible, too scary for you.

But The Drumf does fight brave and fight strong and fight true.”


“But what is it you’re scared of? We really must know?

We cannot be scared over nothing.

For if we don’t know, our fear will just grow and grow,

Until we are scared of a shadow.”


“It snapped hard at my heels and I kicked it away.

(The Drumf is an excellent kicker).

It was tall. It was long. It was ever so fast,

You couldn’t outrun it. But, The Drumf? Well, I can.”


“So you be afraid, be a-scared, be a-feared.

You must follow along with The Drumf.

For your fear shall make The Drumf’s anger grow great

then The Drumf shall be greatest, for sure!”


And that’s when the night’s clouds stepped aside for the moon.

And The Drumf squealed aloud, crying tears.

Orlando looked around, then Orlando looked down

And saw what The Drumf really feared.


“The Drumf’s made your scared and The Drumf’s made you angry,”

Said Orlando aloud to the crowd.

“But The Drumf’s biggest fear, why, it’s nothing but air.

That Drumf is afraid of it’s shadow!”


“Oh no!” Screamed The Drumf,

“It found me! It knows!

I’ve come face to face with my shadow.”

The Drumf screamed and roared.

It waved a toy sword!

The Drumf quaked and shook to the marrow.


Now the folks of Town One, Next Town and Town Over,

Saw how they had been fooled by The Drumf.

Silly Drumf had imagined the fright and the fear.

“That Drumf needs a hug,” said Orlando.


©Stuart Fitzwilliam 2016.