through the hollow

aluminum vent snaking

between walls

the rhythmic stomp

of a first-floor

alarm clock

sharpening its razors

seeps through a second-

story bedroom grate

and slices the frames

of dreams with

sweaty blades—

confusing scenes

with dead leaves

it tosses them out

for the wind’s

amusement—

all of this

destruction

before it peels

apart eyes

carefully

like

sleepy oranges

Fluorescent lights

sterilizing the

convenience store

compete with the

milky light

of the moon,

heavy on the heaving

chest of the sky,

to see which

is brighter

while

cars on slick

rubber tires

peel away from

the pavement,

drivers dreaming

of warm bedrooms,

chased by

rippling plastic bags,

ghostlier white leaves.

sweating inside

the silverware drawer

a dog whimpers

for food—

the master realizes

his dog

will starve in the

event of

a power outage.

calling from

the tips

of his fingers

the master

pleads with the dog

to come out of the

silverware drawer

and lay at his feet

to keep them warm.