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while hunting the perfect verb on the first rainy day
of
what would prove to be a long and cold december
we too can go
charming
brave and uncaring as a childhood pox,
we can reinvent the
unemployed,
our best version of momentum
a symptom - of the silence all
around us.
we can enter a world of pet tricks
where the cattle prod
remains useless
on the telephone table
we can release it from its
ache
to squawk across the wires for
one more night of weird destiny
to
flutter
we can rise into the fluted yawp
and pledge to sleep only when
and where
it's needed, like firefighters
c2005 Peter Schwartz
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