Humility is
seeing yourself as you really are. The
dog gazes back, her dark
brown eyes framed
by a hint of iris. Her
forehead is folded,
gray and black, her nose
long enough she can't
see the red dot in front of her. The word “hackles” comes to
mind. Each morning
the man
prays to (and for) a six foot cardboard image of the president. I'm
struck
by a
desire to do nothing but
sit in the field out back and hold the long
orange leash that keeps my dog from bolting. John Bolton's
in line for the NSC job. Each
night the president crawls in his bed in the house in the city in the
nation behind the wall he knows to be his legacy. His
will be done, his kingdom come. In a hangar in Florida Melania used the “trespasses” version of the
Lord's Prayer. From the other room I hear
Bryant tell the dog to sit. Sit, sit, sit, stay. Come! Good girl.
--19
February 2017
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