Thursday, November 17, 2005

Dental Floss Vines

My red catnip mouse swings from the end of a string of dental floss pinched between Shelly's fingers. I'm stretched along the rug, swatting. A man in Lincoln Square fills old baby food jars with rice and popcorn kernels for pigeons. They walk on his head, shoulders, arms, thighs, feet. They strut. Climb his chest. Today I'm going to kill the milk bottle cap ring I tucked under the rug a couple months ago. A tiny pumpkin on the dining room table is scary. Dental floss vines stolen at night from the bathroom garbage can. Soon it's winter and I won't be afraid of the rain.


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5:52 PM  

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