Intro to Boredom 101

Some people are boring because their parents had boring sex the night they were conceived.
Which spreads the boredom everywhere. And isn’t their fault. But most of us fall out of love

with amazement. With the way hummingbird wings sound like questions. With how
a rotted mango left out turns into a perfect sitting room for wasps. With a creature

like the cuttlefish that when starving will eat its own heart. With a stone frog in a garden
and on its head a butterfly with sore feet. With how electric bug zappers on porches

at night set free tiny spirits and fireflies in yards could be dead people lighting cigarettes.
With how birds doze on wires perfectly still—without waking in mid-air, tumbling terrified

from nightmares. Yes, some people are boring because they were the spark when two
boring people rubbed their genitals together like sticks. Which spreads the disease.

But most of us fall out of love with the rich broth of dusk. With the way the sky is daily washed
by the rough nurse of morning. With silence in a room that is the opposite of nails being pounded

in a roof. With how any given moment, you can spot a child tugging a grown-up’s hand, giggling,
pointing at the thing that it wants.

Neil Carpathios