three am
voices in the front yard
Okay, but I can’t be seen;
they have an alarm you know—
what are you going to do
about the alarm?
eleven pm
cacophony
Bats babble in the
warm winter walls
some sentient squabble
centipede carcass
noon
resonance
Wide wheeled wonder-woofers
pickup pounding percussive
babe bundle bounces by
eardrums eradicated
before dawn
indefinite
Shots riccochette somewhere
crap! he saw me!
gotta get outa town!
let’s hide in here!
