In Case of Fire (for Donald Trump)

White sheets march
off the laundry line
at sunset

Your mother
across the alley of our yards
twists shut her
blinds. Her

thin fingers do not
shake like my mother’s as
she folds me
into the bathtub

says to turn
the water on
in case of fire

And whatever you hear, stay put
hold your breath don’t
let the pointed shadows
find you.

Your mother at the kitchen table
platter emptied of cookies
she fed us
after school.

We played Barbies,
Slap Jack,
Hide-and-Seek until
you gave up

wanted to know how
I learned to

Shawna Ayoub

Shawna Ayoub is an essayist, fiction writer, poet and instructor with an MFA in creative writing from Indiana University. Some of her work has been published in The Manifest-Station, Role Reboot, [wherever], The Huffington Post, The Oxford Review and Exit 7. Her writing explores the intersections of race, place and survivorship. She writes with honesty about her own experience in order to transform pain.

3 Discussion to this post

  1. I keep waiting for everyone to wake up from this Trump night terror, but I’m reminded time and again that the entity called the crowd (or majority, etc.) feeds on fear and misinformation. It’s dangerous. Even evil. I do believe that we will come to our senses about Trump – I hope – but it won’t be the end of the ideas his spewing. One day there will be an end, but not soon enough.

    View Comment
  2. The Hook says:

    This was brilliant.
    I can’t wait to see where this Trump train wreck is leading to.

    View Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Latest Stories

Search stories by typing keyword and hit enter to begin searching.

%d bloggers like this: