published in Volume 3, Issue 3 on July 8th, 1996
Why do you crouch like that, seeming once, and then not, to be black-striped murk and mud in the rush of marsh reed masses? Why do you shadow there in the skeering clicks of the creek crickets, in the tick of minnow mouths nipping the skin of the pond? Why lurk so, skulking in grassy wind-purples of rain and storm, in the gull-wing waver quaking above the capping surf? Why not out, little buddy rose? Why not spread, every naked button bared? Why prowl in the rattle of the alley cans beyond the eye-circle of the street lamp? Why not, on the fencetop, prance and hump, tiger cat? Yowl, spit in plain moonview from the roof's peak. For how, in your unfound absence, can I know other than the bald, boneless, toothless, heartless negative of my own imaginary fools-marvel? Why, even before the void, should you have costumed as void? Don't snow-hide outside in the crooked white shadows of the midnight oak. Why not come? Why not forth? Or why not, dear nothing but the nothing to which I speak, be boldly here as the dearth and madness of my entreaties?