The Rattlesnake Poem by RIC BASTASA

i see to it that i read a poem a day,
like an apple,

or a sunrise that i must but watch quickly
because i have to go somewhere else

what you have to offer is a litany of your
pain, that rattlesnake that hid somewhere

and which you cannot find despite grandpa's help
you molt

i do not have much time left as i too have to chase
my own snakes

that make the sound during the night
but so silent during the day

that no one hears them
or believe that they all exist

i make it up for you
that there is no snake that cabinets are only for our clothes

i eat smiles for breakfast and save every morsel of it
when the night comes.