all day i see

armadillos:

who knew they could sit up?

there are just older than baby ones at the edges of the swamp —

and then playing in captivity on my screen captivating me,

then smashed on the roadway — in the center lane, by the curb and on the median.

i come home and see

their cuteness is still being shared again and again,

as if to numb us

from the reality of our own destructive tendencies.

Pay attention – armor offers no salvation – neither does the media.