Day of the Dead

Posted on 05 February 2010

I.
My dog breaks his tree inspection,
Whiffs a sun-baked brick that once

Doubled as sparrow death site.
Though raided by a hungry crow,
The brick still glows of maggots—

II.
On the 405 North, someone
spreadeagles the middle lane.
CHP broadbacks investigate,

Ignore the orange cones that
Rope open-mouthed commuters
into the slow lane. We rubberneck

As we pass, note the blood
Flutter away from him, then converge
like a flock of larks on the shoulder.

How long our brother waits
Before he is wheeled away—

note: These things happened as I was making my way to a tennis match in Carson, CA. As we watched the event from the stands, ash from a nearby wildfire blew over us, coating our shoulders like snowflakes.