Rats in the Cabinets

I hear the butterfly's

scales

falling from

its wing in

microscopic

prism snow

A burial at sea,

no

worms and

eternal

sunshine

for the

sailor.

Candle bug

kamikaze

into a pretty

girl's hair.

Piercing the stuffy

southern night

with

simple syrup

and whiskey

screech.

Straight above

the asphalt

a squirrel

is balancing on

his hind legs

on a power line

while eating

a peach pit.

Stinging spring wind

and

a sniffling

bike ridden

noses

all about

the hospital

and

sidewalks

and empty lots.

I have the

nerves now

all I need's

the guts.