I break for birds, but surf the web in school
zones, looking down and down. It's hot now, hot
as plastic dolls for sale in Jaurez--cool
at twenty pesos each, but not worth squat
without their heads. The ticker skips to sports.
The Saints are fucked. It scrolls and claims there's soccer,
but no-one's watching. All the news reports
are skippable: there's serotonin blockers
downloadable for free these days--just click
our links and pass our CAPTCHAs. Peeking out,
I see the crosswalk guard: a stop-sign chick
in skinny jeans and witless shoes. My route's
repeating, so I get to see her lift
her sign for all the drivers on her shift.
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