BlackBird

Every morning as I leave for work my car is covered in bird shit.

I wipe the freshly laid speckles of turd from my car with baby wipes.

I used to wash my car.

But I think what’s the point. When every morning it’ll be covered in shite again.

As I go to get into my car. I hear a chirp.

I look up.

And on the roof. There’s a black bird that chirps in a sadistic way. Tormenting me.

I swear I see it smirk.

I know and the bird knows. There will be fresh shite again on my car in the morning.