Thunder
came from the bird.
He puffed out, let go and
there it was—
a slow, vacant rumble.
Is that god?
I asked Angela.
No, it’s just a man
falling asleep
on the sofa.
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I like to wait
and I like to eat
as I wait.
I rest, and I wait to eat.
Because waiting
is eating, and you can’t eat
if you don’t wait.
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