Plastic Bag Windows

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Rot, Trumbull says. Rot and rodents

It’s 6AM out over the under-
pass

Mice of cartoon nature tear
apart

Trumbull rolls his bed, finishing
quickly

It’s the first two dimensions that
lie

Flat, but not truly; hiding their
depth

Ground coffee’s in an empty soup
can

Mingling bare toes with morning
dew

It’s percolating now; dark bean
smell

Rodents and plastic ducks litter
Earth

Don’t believe a single sense says
Trumbull

He’s rolling up plastic windows
now

Letting morning-tinged sunbeams
in

Thoughts pop; perked and buzz
growing

Caffeine simmer heightens world
dimensionality

Night life of flattened mice
disappears

Trumbull is covering bare toes
now

Stepping lively through lil’ plastic
doorways

Morning’s beginning, no matter ur
housing

Day’s calling him ‘way from lonely
fear

Rot and rodents, Trumbull says,
smiling

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