‘Happiness, for instance…’

Dreams for free, and other poetic vignettes from the before times and the now

I met three Jacks in 48 hours, and that’s got to mean something.

I had been waiting for a Trump fugshot for seven years and two decades. I first began reporting on his criminality in the mid-aughts, and by 2016, it became my full-time unpaid job. I was a woman unshackled by a corporation with a certain skillset, and I deployed for God and country.

Fugshot…