I never liked the tree my dad planted in the back yard. It replaced the tree I used to love, the one he
a couple years after we moved in...the one we had our pit/rot mix chained to. He was a mean dog, but I missed him when he ran away.
This new tree has no trunk...it's just
branches sticking out of the ground...but it provides afternoon shade, and I smoke my afternoon ciggarettes underneath it.
The flies here are ridiculous.
It's as if something unseen is decomposing, and they get stuck in my curls and all I can hear is their never ceasing buzzing. If they are trying to tell me their secrets, I am sad that I don't understand them, but grateful that they drown out the noise of the cars passing by.
I'm tired of traffic. Tired of this trunk-less tree. Tired of me.
I wish I didn't need it's shade, but I'm already too dark for my own good...
I'll either remain and be stretched too thin,
or depending on the time
disappear all together.