Today's poem is by Martha Silano

Flying Rats
        with apologies to Mary Oliver

Actually? You do have to be good.
For real? You kinda do have to walk,
if not literally on your knees,
then figuratively on your knees,
or, if not on your "knees," then
in really lame, falling apart
grandma tennies with worn out
orthotics she bought back in the 90s
at Kmart. For, like, a hundred miles—
from downtown Los Angeles
to the Bakersfield McDonalds.
Also, guess what? You do have to say
I'm sorry many times a day for things
like forgetting to tighten the faucet,
or leaving the gas on, or hitting
your kids, even if only once
on the bottom. Not gonna lie:
you can't go around all jellyfish,
all shell-less mollusk, scrolling
Instagram or watching Love Island.
We can talk to each other about
what pains us (me: not going to visit
my death-bed mother; you: having
to gain weight), but let's be honest:
saying "meanwhile, the world goes on"
doesn't cut it. Why? Because yeah,
there's sun and pebbles, prairies
and trees, mountains and rivers,
but let's not airbrush out the number
of acres of US forest lost to wildfires
this past summer: seven and a half
million. Meanwhile, the geese
are shitting all over the playground grass,
the walkways and cement barriers.
Not high up, but dragging their butts
across mowed down blackberry brambles.
Okay, so you're lonely, and the world
offers you Itself? Calls to you like
one of these cobra chickens? Yeah,
yeah pretty harsh. Pretty f-ing harsh

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Copyright © 2024 Martha Silano All rights reserved
from Kestrel
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission