Like So Many Mice in a Bucket
I miss my friends, I mean miracles
& pattering rests in the dazzled nest
isn’t that plain enough? Rents go up
unavoidably, stealing with it a yard
which is like the carbon of nowhere
you need be today. Happy endings,
coasting tire & hum until we’re free
& miss a good church luring old age
reasonably, convincingly, intensely
as a cornfield on a hot summer day.
You swerve the car often, see dodos
dragging twice their size. Breaking
for these abodes are the blue pools,
the clean pairing of wing & horizon.
So let us weigh then what we know
when the world reassembles & rises.