Omens in The Age Of Information

a poem that has nothing to do with love

I love love poems. I love writing them and reading them and talking about them. In February, I’ll solely share love poems (in addition to publishing and releasing my book of love poems for the zodiac). God, it’s gonna be gooey.

So here, in the name of Balance, is a poem about death and a quiet, unnamed violence.

Omens in The Age Of Information

Someone I don’t know   in real life
posted a picture of her 30-year-old 
horse	  toothless and blind, sunk
spined, 		             eating grass 
with the two-hearts            -for-eyes 
emoji.               Then ants took over

my apartment.           They planted 
tiny flags                     which I brush 
off the counter.                   Humble
as they are,               they forgive me
for forgetting   to buy toilet paper. 
All day                                    I wiped 

them away          with old   napkins 
from UberEats deliveries,        as if 
I was serving some               natural 
cycle—consume                  and kill. 
After all that      would you believe 
my quiet 	                          dog 

was possessed                      with fear 
on our walk?                 She growled
red                   into the night. I knelt 
and asked her         is death coming? 
She said, 	          don’t be silly. 
You know                       I cannot say. 

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Thank you for reading. Thank you for being here <3