I couldn’t help but smile
when a bird outside our kitchen
trilled “Whew whew whew!”
Then it switched to “Wee-oop
whee-oop whee-oop!”
“Listen to that!” I cried aloud,
as Kim kept chopping her kale.
I went to the screen for a toke
while the bird continued.
The singing abruptly stopped,
and so did I.
I put away my pipe
and started a gluten-free diet.
I cancelled our subscription
to the New York Times,
and filed for divorce.
This was no surprise to Kim.
“You were always an asshole,”
she said. “Same as that
fucking bird.”
Selected by Maria MazzengaImage Brian Henderson
