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{the dick} aaron belz It isn’t easy being such a dick. The sun comes up, I wake; it sets, I go to bed. The local paper runs a story about what a dick I am; it’s short. This afternoon I sit in my recliner wearing nothing but a floral shirt— no shoes, no baseball cap, no pants. I’m out of beer. A bird lands on my window sill and seems to sing, “a dick, a dick,” to no one in partic- ular. It’s harsh. But I don’t complain. I’ve had enough of the kind of pain that birds inflict with their caustic songs to know it won’t last long. Besides— a dick? We’ve heard that one. How about something new from the birds. |
