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Good Lives (For Bad Reasons)
December in the desert, and your family and your friends are scattered like they're scraps of dust on Santa Ana winds. Some found less hostile places, some went legally insane. Some have died, some got arrested, some were just otherwise detained. You search for winter's definition, but seasons dull to shades; there's heat that scorches or heat that whispers incoherent names. But you'll find some spotty evidence in faded Polaroids of Food Not Bombs from Oregon. Of houses now destroyed. Aquarius. Aquarius. A trident through a crab that scuttled half-way northward and did not quite make it back. Can you put this all behind you, now：the contagions and the greed? The burnt-out husks of activists who've found other relief? And just schedule your suffering for the one hour a day between the time you shut off your lights and sleep takes you away. You've had a hard life for noble reasons. Now night emerges from the Earth. You've had a hard life for noble reasons, and it's not clear what that's worth. They've had good lives for bad reasons, and you're envious sometimes. They've had good lives for bad reasons. Maybe...that would be enough tonight.
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