the latest infestation
Of course my gaze veers to the headlines about a new species of tick,
having improbably crossed the Pacific and recently appearing in the public parks
and golf courses of suburban New Jersey. Of course I scroll down to the hi-res closeup
of the parasite in question, engorged with the blood of its host and teetering, drunkenly,
on tiny, twiggy legs. Of course I am re-imagining the real estate of my scalp, once
innocent and pristine, as the perfect ecosystem for a hostile takeover. No matter
the conviction with which I clutch a pair of garden shears. No matter the decisive
swipe of the blade to clear the magnolia of the invading stalks circling its trunk.
The problem is, there's a certain kind of trouble you can't see until it's too late,
the disruption subtle as a dandelion seed before it spreads, and spreads, and spreads.