Same names in the news. Same foolishisms on exchange. I ought not to listen/look but here I am, alive. These repetitions carve trenches in my mind. I already used up three shovels filling them in. Under the full moon, I mapped a new route with a tool I don’t know the name of. It doesn’t matter though. Over there is a war. And over there too. There’s a lot of waste. Too much tilt. It’s best to find a purpose. Climb something. Pet a dog. Plant a tree. Learn a new word. Use it.


