Mean Think

Coyotes again,
That strangled yipping
In chilly predawn

That makes you wonder
If they’re just greeting
Each other, or if

They’re celebrating
A meal of a fawn.
The deer have been thick

Around town this year,
And there’ve been no more
Sightings or warnings

Of mountain lions
Since way back last spring.
Maybe the coyotes

Were able to score
Something bigger than
Jackrabbits or cats.

Does, fawns, and a buck
Have stripped all the leaves
From bushes nearby

Your rented windows,
But they still patrol
The sidewalk and porch.

You rock in your chair,
Eater of packaged
Foods from supply chains,

An ecosystem
Of domesticates,
Humans for humans,

Humans threatening
Humans. Coyotes
Can mean what you think.

Devotion

Death loved you so much
That death gave you back
Safely the first time,

A great sacrifice
Of pure devotion
That touched you deeply,

And you thought yourself
Specially in love
With death in return,

Only in that way
That people who feel
Unreasonably

Loved fondly shelter
The thought of that love
As backup treasure,

Rainy-day option,
At least so-and-so
Will always love me,

But never really
Requiting that love
Or admitting it

To the world, always
Looking out for love
That you’d love better,

Love that you’d chosen
Yourself. Death never
Stopped loving you, though.

Death remained faithful
To you, to you, to
Every living thing.

Every One

The thing about the first person

Is that they never are the first,

Never were, never even close.

Ok, ok, someone somewhere

Must have used the first first person,

And someone before that, maybe

Immediately thereafter,

Had to have been the first person.

But by the time the first person

Tried joking, Madam, I’m Adam,

It was long past the time no one

Would ever be the first again.

You’re not the second neither, nor

The third, but at least they’re some more.

Tonian

Most life left no trace.
Most lives will leave none,

Even if their net
Data doesn’t die.

Live with that in mind.
Fate is erasure

For most adventures,
Although, lottery

Players every one,
Imaginations

Dwell on becoming
Interesting fossils

Future selves ponder.
In the Tonian,

Eukaryotic life
Got complicated

As oxygen rose,
And then exploded

After the boring
Billion years before,

But speculation
And conjecture still

Haunt the scrutiny
Of leftover stones.

Most lives leave no trace,
Just sheets of blank space.