all day i think about obama in the garden killing all the trees, and then i think it's comet's last day on earth. i think about the dead trees get  repurposed. i think about the purpose of people like obama who become celebrity killers. i think about turning from the destroyed garden and to the dogs whose lives are so brief. i think of the marauders of the earth and the dogs, of living and dying among the casually sacrificed trees.