Malice! Malice! on every hill—even the ones where I gingerly walk with Jasper, who takes frequent breaks under a tree or a bush. I’m out of breath from the short climb today, when it’s usually a breeze. But this breeze ain’t breezing like normal, even this close to the ocean. Hence the air quality warning.
Malice on the lawn, where the hollowed-out remains of a small bird lead to many pulls on the leash. All that’s left is the memory of flight.
And this clipped-wing creature is now waste—
not only an animal,
but also an alien.
So I say a short prayer.
Did you know birds eat other birds?
I do this prayer anytime an ambulance goes by, sirens blaring—
and with this heat wave, it’s more often than not.
Malice is in every headline
as if it were planned.
Did you know a series of decisions doesn’t mean something was well thought out?
We give too much credit to ourselves when the world is all momentum.
We can’t take credit for the journey of chaos—
only for the decis…
