Saturday, November 12, 2005

grey squirrel running across a powerline
traffic-light dangling beneath you

the distance & the rushing cars
the hardness of the tar, don't frighten you

you carry a small rotten crabapple in your teeth
a brown fragment falls off onto a windshield as you

scramble over a red light turning green--
the man behind the windshield looks up

to see you suspended by electricity
drives into the sun & burns to a crisp

you reach the telephone pole on the other side
of the street and climb down to stand

upright on your tiny hinges, stuffing your cheeks
while people scream and the wreckage smolders;

a heap of black roses covering an ember

1 comment:

LukeBuckham said...

If by "wildlife" you mean a certain darkly beautiful person on whom I have an unshakeable crush and who insists on popping up in my dreams constantly, then yes. Regrettably, I do not recall ever having dreamed about the kind of wildlife that runs around in the jungles and larger forests of the world. I do dream of a wilder life, but I do that constantly, not just at night.