I Am Nature

by J.M. McDermott

Detroit is dying. All the ornamental structures from the glory days of American industry wilt in ruin. There’s one building — found it myself — where the roof caved in one winter. There’s a tree that used to be in the lobby — and it’s dead — but its children are growing there. The forest has taken over the lobby. Birds hide everywhere, in the trees and the rafters, and their shit covers everything, but their singing is so beautiful.