I’ve always written to uplift, un-sadden the world and was never going to mention the rat with the snapped neck as I pulled back the steel bar that performed well last night and dropped the fruit stealer into a plastic bag for the trash I will try not to envision its partner or children left behind or its last moments, if it had any of them, feeling the life ebb away so I’ll just end this with a soft toss quietly leave the garage gently close the door

to be a critical thinker means understanding things through your own research so each decision you make is persuaded by you

I counted fourteen huge black ravens, scattered under the deep shade of a mesquite tree, their beaks split open, tongues panting, gathered not to gossip but watch each other suffer the silence of July’s heat, a kind of karma for their cruelty in April