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
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.