April Poem #11 (sample)

Tell me all the things you’d miss


If you’re asleep—note—if you’re not awake,

wide eyes, you could miss—there is much.


The hefty rat, its rot, right eye, steady steel

& gray body upturned & turned in on itself,

the glue trap’s coffin & concrete grave

on Audubon’s quietest 8:20 am street. Just

face & tail taunting world. Avert her eyes,