Crickets in an Airtight JarDenied foothold and access to breeze, their bodies invent, hum up the glass and down, some sluggish some wild against others ![]() who would be as rude. If you put a nail through their universe's metal lid, they'd just be silent a moment, then impertinent again. ![]() Does the boy who holds their frantic globe grasp the intent or intensity of the matter? A question for the science of cheap hooks— ![]() a barb to the bugs' undeveloped brains. Papa's got a knack for tricks, knows his knots and does well not to bring the guts around mama— ![]() his little messy bundle beneath the dock, bobbing in rhythm. The birds circle the municipal pier but land at golf-link lakes. ![]() Footsteps overhead—passing sound of strangers—are a curfew of sorts. A cuff against the noggin and with a flourish the poles are packed, ![]() the gear stowed. How he taught the quiet ways of good sports— resealed the fear inside its glass. A world frantic for want of air. |
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