Bedroom Companions in
Life Poems
You leave me flypaper,
half-a mouse, the lower half,
an offering for the mutant child
who lives under my bed.
Then you leave me, flypaper,
the rodent my only companions
as you go searching for free-range,
pasture-raised cattle,
a package of eight hamburger buns.
You leave me, too, Flypaper,
follow the mutant girl
through the heating ducts, reflective metal
where she ties her hair ribbons.
All the while I am counting bedbugs
(twenty-three) pacing over me.
By echoshindig
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