For Depressives, Junkies and Rabbits: Mist Drawn Raining
The drumming beat of rain through misting --
hose snakes in cyan pool awakening.
Watching the fall.
Cleansing off the smog and ichor --
cigarettes, chewing gum and liquor.
The vaulted sky and liquor.
We are so small.
Petrichor-and-breath-sedated
trails of rust are wasting.
Wasting away.
A tear for discarding the discarded,
lighting mist from mouth downturned
in longing. Watching the prey.
Biscuit bait don’t grow around here.
Head through the snare.
Can’t resist in desperate straits – slow your gait.
Nibble with poise, don’t run from here
with eager pace for your prize.
King Lepus says my ups are down. A sense of approaching
impending dim corridors
and specters. My nose wiggles fiercely, my whiskers shiver.
Please reply,
Desperate.
Lost
Please find me.
David Morck is a Poet, Writer, Academic Web Developer at the Oviatt Library at CSU Northridge, Accessibility Advocate, and Open Access Apologist. His Twitter is @morckpoetry.