You must be careful:
this privileged life
is riddled with jeopardy
like how our big dumb dog
stands behind reversing cars
so you have to stick your neck
out the window and yell at him
to move, idiot, move, or else
he will stand there and die, for what?
Or to prove, perhaps, the destructive
streak in humans reaches far into our DNA
and even those who vow to leave the world
intact and unharmed inflict damage
a neglected houseplant,
a toilet clogged catastrophically, for example,
and if anything i’ve learned, from my grandmother
of all people, that if something requires fixing
you should speak softly unto it Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah
and watch in awe as it will mend.
What is the point of this poem?
That big dumb dog.
It will stand there behind my car
and I will have no choice
but to plow into it and end its life
one day, perhaps
if there is a pressing meeting
that I’m running late for
and must attend.
What choice do I have?
written at 12:04 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA.