Only One

 The magpie brought the message sent.

It flew into the tree and then

I looked and looked and looked again 

But there was only one. 


It said nothing, shifted stance

And cocked it's head askew, askance 

At my concerned but accepting glance

I could see only one.


I'd seen this omen once before 

In brutal clarity’s recall

I wept and wept and wept some more

And cursed that only one.


But now I know the message sent

Is not to torture or torment

Just warn of loss to the extent

It can, as only one.


Tuxedo donned in noble rite

Its visits solemn and polite

Piebald Mercury takes flight

And leaves me only one. 


Humble

 Hard to explain how much I hate the word humble

Insidiously supplanting sincerity and stumble-

Spoken into each gobful of gratitude as token

Hat tip to hard work, to the also-rans, to being less than.


Hard to explain because it all sounds like bullshit. 

Like chat gpt’s overly adjectived descriptions

Like every unhuman artistic production.


Tragedy is humbling. Success is humbling.

Perspective is humbling. Honesty is humbling. 


All engaged in a race to be smallest,

Shrinking from callings, calamitous fawning, disingenuous drawls from lips drawn into duplicitously delighted half smirks.

This word is doing the devil's work.

Drowning heartfelt honesty in velvety venomous sophistry.