Squirrel, you did what you could.
We lost our power for three hours.
That’s five dozen trees
or the moon
or whatever they make power out of.
Now you are toast and there’s no one left
to torch SUVs
or blow up dams.
Perhaps another squirrel
will take your place.
I hope it’s the one
living in my attic.
He is noisy
and deserves to be arrested.
how could i miss these!! fuck your novel– publish your poems!!!
🙂