The squirrels are all California squirrels.
They keep asking me how I am, hoping
I’ll like it here, too. I’m becoming less something,
more other things, but not because of the beach, and the
highways don’t induce mellowness,
so I don’t know what is induced or why.
It rains a lot. We crane at each new
accident. I’m using language
carefully, trying not to be too precise.
I’m a sucker for hostility.