I am a killer
of butterflies.
Death and destruction
are my constant companions
in my car.
Birds, bugs, small critters,
nothing is safe
from my vehicular manslaughter.
It's not like I mean to -
I'm not an intentional
serial critter killer,
swerving into defenseless animals.
It's a frame-up.
They attack me,
leaving their remains splattered
on my car.
One winter morning,
a suicidal bird
challenged me -
like a sumo wrestler ready to charge,
a kamikaze pilot set on his course,
it was prepared to take me on.
It rose from the snow
and hovered in front of my grill,
by the time I realized it was there
there was nothing for me to do
but accept its challenge.
