Kathryn Rantala
The house is welcoming and so
it fills its feet with shoes
to shape the emptiness
that points from time to time
beneath the bed.

The phone folds hands and arms
across its head
unless a shower is indulged,
a mower used,
or some new theater noise
erects a barrier to god.

When wires under streets sing
the posts of fences
fill with birds.
The movers underground
are quiet then;
the people tread
like toothpicks into cheese
to see what they can taste of it.

The cars in this
go back and forth
on every day they can.

Kathryn Rantala is the publisher of Ravena Press and the enditor of "Snow Monkey Review".



In Posse: Potentially, might be ...