don’t forget to put the teakettle on, listen to the hum, the hiss,
the scream, add to the water one length of rope, one candle
wick, one pinkie mouse will escape the snake, so sprinkle
granulated sugar on every counter, to wipe up later, to crush
under sandalled feet, to thumb through old film, remembering
the sight of one lone cockerel, alive to fight another day, then
bring each one of seven to the yard for sunbathing, while one lazy
black cat noses your legs, teach them to listen, to the trucks hitting
potholes on the old river road, to the river beyond,
chewing at her banks.
Hana Damon-Tollenaere is a biology student and occasional writer. She lives in California with her girlfriend and a variety of reptiles and amphibians. Her published work can be found at hanadamontollenaere.carrd.co.