Poems

Some verbiage from my time on Bush St.

I'm so small
that I fit
within
a drop of water
or a blade of grass

I'm so angry
that you are
a field or
a storm cloud
full to the brim
~~~~~~
you ensnare me.
I hang on
the shortest phrase,
the quarter rest
in hopes of
your smallest attention.
~~~~~~
I crept around the house
selecting meals with crinklings and rustlings in mind.
To ease your slumber;
making kills that die quietly
so you sleep
and are in turn
quiet for
fucking once.