After the rainstorm in the morning sun

Raises its antlers and mugs between the

Cold houses, your phone took a photo

Of the cumuli examining the damages

Done to the city's wiring house pigeons

Pegged on the pylons as Wednesday's 

Night billowed in through the curtains

The opened louvers jittered like teeth

Eating snow dawn steps over chattering

Swards, a copulating toad leaps out of

Its brown water pothole the crickets

Hearing approaching footsteps quieted

Down a Dodge swerved into bystanders

Tadpoles spermed the gutters with stagnant

Waters, I forded the black road that went

For miles under the boulevards that mangoes,

Amaryllises, Horton’s and neems -- when

Rattled shook off the raindrops with bees

Humming in honeycombs in their boles.