Rats dream of the future. Dream of the long hours,
of soft talking, back seat sitting, thread
counting. Sun bleach sense and icy breaths.
Told how to solder might. How to
pencil line the far path over broken
wall tops, under yawning trees. Told
how to skip hill edges. Told how
to sharpen teeth.
What’s wrong with that?
soft bellies touch rivers. tributaries trickle sense.
little hearts beat blood as big hearts. little eyes
glean from the waters glimmer pulsed messages.