*Guest piece by Sun and Moon

Who is traveling to NYC
to feed the rats
and pose with them, how cute
nature is absolutely unpredictable endlessly made of
surprise and grim resignation
turn up on Miami Beach and
feed the seagulls and pigeons
magical, make a reel but
it's also poop
in your hair extensions and in the already contaminated ocean water
let me take a sample
and then wash hands before
feeding yourself with chips as well
so here quietly I sit after, walking and parking
In the old backyard
I see there's a lot of breakers
out there because
it's going into low tide
visitors too
from around the globe,
completely kind
but here goes NYC
never fails to enrage the day
taking an italicized iconic photoshoot
of fed seagulls and yes
beach pigeons
while pelican glides by nonplussed, fishing for fish
I don't remember if this was even
my home,but I know it was
and is
and rapt with amusement and disappointment, I wade in the waters of my memory
and when they stand
too close to the blanket
I'm sitting on
drive, ride right into my upper arm while I'm trying to scramble to safety
remembering the rubble
buildings that fell,
I let my visage fall with grief like the the waves crashing on shore
I won't speak up til
you all stick it to me like that lionfish just laying there, washed up half-dead dying on the beach
but first thought was
this is a crab
on its back, washed ashore,
like a futile beetle in a struggle
I observe, don't hesitate,
looking around at
drink makers and fakers and money chasers in surplus
but where is the capacity for compassion
I don't know how to explain it myself
So I go
when that was living is now dying there and cannot die
if it can be saved there I go
cautiously try to intervene to save
brother
lionfish, not a crab
that guy walking by
doesn't care
I could not care either
but I choose to
couldn't just sit there
equally nonplussed
and just see it as a metaphor
in sharp contrast with a lost soul not dying with dignity but wilting in toxicity
meditating peacefully in the deep shadows contemplating the shape of it all and stolen red sunsets
finding these happy moments in the surety of suffering
I don't need to sit in the sun instead
I need to be careful about everything
yet I have reckless moments still
out of laziness or habits
outcomes of heath or illness
so precarious
nobody's business
and subject to those who suspect
whether truth unknown or truth known, skeptics abide
you don't know, existing on the surface of the surface
diving deeper to live
surrounded by people who try
to warn of the spiky apparation's predation, even in death,
they yell "dangerous! "
and each one passing by
in almost slow motion, continuously identify the moment of realization
each living human drawn to the depths of sorrow if only for a moment,grappling with death
until death was sure.
and once he was really dead.
people stopped stopping
they all really stopped caring
walking past the lionfish corpse
like it was nothing
nothing to know, nothing to save
nothing worth saving
what was is no longer alive
but still deadly in death
is really nothing to see here
in this city

As always, my special thanks to any and all outside contributions, I cherish knowing and helping to share the work of others!