Dave Matthews

DAVE MATHEWS



It's so cold in the apartment
our pet rats are sneezing. She
says, "You've ruined a lot of things
for me. I may not be able to believe
in God anymore, but I can believe
in Dave Matthews."

We've given one of the rats medicine.
We can only afford it
for one. It was sick first and it spread.
They share, like children
in books from the 1800s.
If it gets well, maybe that will spread.

They treat us like rats, groom us
if we lie where they can reach us.
She plays "Satellite" and one of them sticks
its nose in my ear. Another roots in my hair,
crawls on top of my head and sits.

She laughs, it rings out like music.
My ears are filling.
Maybe it will spread.


CL Bledsoe

Posted over on The Juke Jar