earthquake season

rabbits will warn us, but we will ignore their warnings,

most of which will be too small to be felt.

magic markers will determine plate tetonics, two-dollar

packets of gum will cost $4.99, murderers will claim

the homicide was consensual, and at Christmas time, the best pears

we send to your grandparents will smell like sweat

on feet.

actually,

everything might end

up ok. the ceiling and walls and

antibiotics are in place, sad people

can be fixed, and from a distance, we can see

grandma walking home holding a huge leg of ham.

she says, she

says,

roses are a kind of people,

smiling is an kind of spring:

a contemplation allowing steam

to escape from below the surface.

she really meant to say,

I really hope I don't get the swine flu.