After the storm left cool air and a snack
of peanut butter and a fig now I’m
hungry again just thinking of it now
where was I going with no plan nothing
to wrap in some rhythmic finery or
what passes for such yes I’m now running
out the clock as you guessed though we could turn
this thing around if we had the will to
reach into the bush braving blood for
small berries that might by now be ripe
though hard experience has taught us that
turns around the old neighborhood turn no
things around and the last bump that kept you
up still lurks in the cold sweat of your back
other animals 