«midnight walk»

the croaking of frogs in heat

muffled by the humid night air

sounds like the pointless ramblings

of tattling hags

wasteful sprinklers

hissing like menacing snakes

water the lush ground

and dampen the air

snails uncoil out of their shells

& lured out of their shady refuges

make an aimless run (as if!) across cemented pathways,

where people and bike wheels

in their blind, demented night tread

punctuate the monotonous midnight drone

with a crack that ends their nightly marathon

leaving behind a (half-finished) slimy trail

(a half-marathon?)

crowned by a gruesome mass of organic bits—

the lone mark of their sorry lives

i do not care to hear any of this

nor bear witness to the carnage of snails

(on better nights a good appetizer...)

and yet i keep my music-bearing vessel tucked away,

too lazy

(read, unwilling)

to choose another soundtrack

for this midnight walk

i walk decidedly,

leaving it all undisturbed,

treading lightly,

making no sound,

cracking no shells,

startling no horny toads,

leaving no mark of my own life

on the road

in the air

in the night