Prates to the Pied-Billed Grebe
By Nathaniel Rounds
While yucca moths pollinate flowers
Between dusk and midnight
I drive upside down
To get that gas gauge hand to set free the E
I need to fill up before the van awakens to its thirst
Maybe some caterpillars will mistake the van
For a four-wheeled plant,
Eat it whole.
Maybe some sultry Latino darkling beetle
Will enter my periphery,
Then kick in my windshield window.
All that�s certain
Is that no Coke machine in Holyoke
Will give me what I want:
Honeysuckle nectar in a can for me and my van
next poem