I press my fingers to the keyboard, willing something eloquent to spring forth from my mind. Yet, I can't help but be distracted from what I see outside my window. Okay, forget eloquence, let me tell you what I see.

There is a squirell jumping from tree to tree as if he is anxious about something. At first I say to him, "Don't worry, I am not going to take your nuts." But then I look up above and see what is truly bothering him.

There is a hawk soaring above in the sky looking for his next prey. He is flying. Watching. Waiting.

Part of me is rooting for the squirrel to make it somewhere safe before the hawk makes his decent. Yet, there is another part of me that wants to watch the hawk eat the squirrel. Those pesky squirrels do get into our garden and eat our tomatoes a lot after all.

But no, there is more to it than that. I want to watch this squirrel get eaten. I want to watch the hawk reign supreme over this rodent.

Do we all, as humans, have this innate desire to see violence and power played out before our very eyes? Or am I secretly a pyschopath?

I will answer that after I watch this hawk devour the squirrel.

The blocks in my neighborhood were always the longest ones I’ve ever walked.

The jobs I’ve worked have always had the longest hours and the shortest breaks.

The money in my pocket was never enough for what I truly desired, only for what was truly needed.

But I still smile..

I crack grimaces on the days that take the most tolls on my spirit.

I force grins to catch the tears on the days that are the most weary.

And on the most troublesome days,

I stretch my lips as far as I can until my teeth bare their pearls of prosperity.

I imagine myself a thief,

Steal a smile here or there

Still I smile here or there..