Of a Summer Day (July 27, 2019)

A war was being fought over who owned the moon. Mineral and water rights were at the forefront of national concerns. But as the ocean tides rose, the earth’s human population let out a vast yawn and rolled over in their perpetual slumber. “At least it is not my island, yet, that is sunk,” was the common refrain. Everyone was inundated with distractions. It was all a sham to shield extremely wealthy individuals from paying their fair share: tear gas instead of real tears. Tourist families strolled down littered streets, a squirt kid lagging behind to sniff human feces’ marks and trash piles where the pink roses used to grow beside the sidewalk’s beveled ledge. People felt the bad news in their bones, their future all spread out and open behind them. A delinquent Daughter of the American Revolution scratched her nose with her wedding ring. High-temperature records were being broken all across the globe. “It’s hotter than it has ever been. People are literally dying from it today,” said an Italian police officer just before he was stabbed to death by two American students. Young couples worked out with kettle bells together in the windows of repurposed woodshops as homeless encampment refugees looked on with sustained awe and confusion. The United States President called Baltimore, “a disgusting rat and rodent infested mess,” after one of its representatives was critical of his child prisons on the country’s southern…