Rumour reached us over here, you know where, that The Mad Screecher-Speecher is considering to order the great association of Women for Trump to knit the wall, Allan. In the famous colors of the SSB. With a star for every white lie he told.

What is more, I just read this in my morning paper: “The goal of a national emergency is for Trump to scam the stupidest people in his base for 2 more years. He shows ‘HE’S FIGHTING!’ No he’s not. If he signs this bill, it’s over.”

You probably know who wrote this. Someone the blubber babbler never met and doesn’t know. His foremost argument against any critic. Meaning: whomever I do not know doesn’t exist. What I do not know is fake. Coming to think of it: everything outside myself is fake.

Bringing me to the complicated existential question expressed in this poem by the Dutch poet de Génestet:

“Be yourself!”, I said to somebody

But he couldn’t, he was nobody

Friend of life and beauty and foe of spoilers of life and beauty. Golden marriage. Grandfather. Pianist and micro poet. Dutch, European.

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