Bad news comes on beautiful days
when the sun is kissing your cheek
and the old man on the floor
says you have a beautiful smile
though you have nothing to give him.
The news trickles in like the single ant on your bare foot.
It is almost always invisible
existing only in your blind spots
so that you have to listen closely to the words of others-
the prophets who whisper the news or slide it under your door.
They say that bad news comes with good news.
It comes with the mundane-
mixes in with heartbreak and regrets you’ve long misplaced
It comes with euphoria-
when your body feels like the air that you breathe.
Bad news is good news.
It is wake up calls,
life and death,
everything and nothing at once.
It is freedom and the slow but steady beating of your heart.