Better Places

Someone should tell that man with the camera that there are better places than this pond.
This pond where people are always picking up after their dogs. The man with the camera
Should know that there are beaches not made of cement. What the hell is he doing with that
telephoto—as if he’ll wait long enough to catch a cougar across the way. Best he’ll get
is a grayish owl that anyone away from this place heard yesterday morning and the morning
before that. Someone should tell him that there are places beyond this place and this sparkling expanse
isn’t anything special. The rumble of the highway drowns out the birds anyways—he
couldn’t even find them if they were there. Sneakers and strollers should stop gathering around him, straining
their eyes, thinking he’s found something fantastic—an Eagle! It must be?
Someone should stop him from this invention. You live nowhere spectacular.


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