the impending gravity of things

Written by Caycey Pound
Art by Kimson Doan


I pull a rat up by the tail (squirming)
to try to spare him from a death
soaked in chlorine–an act kind of
like looking right into the sun,
a bright white ball remaining
even after I rub my eyes and blink
blink blink.

tonight the fireworks are excessive
sound and scattered plastic, birds shaking,
mice hiding in pools.

tonight I’m waiting on gravity,
looking for Jupiter or Venus:
not yet knowing that the brightest summer stars
were never stars to begin with.