I click: soft,
laminated, patient.
clothes dryer thrums behind the wall
where a mouse chews
he folded his ribs to slip
through a crack in the foundation
to build a winter home
to live inside my life:
i can't refuse.
the corn is off the fields now,
and it is cold.
I can already hear traffic
on the road
that spring will build.
I can already hear the moving van
pull away.
Anticipation is a typewriter.
Action is a mouse
devouring the frame of the world.
