OKAY THE RATS ARE BACK
by ben clark and danna mckenna
the walls humming with footsteps.
Sleep a nap’s length for the night.
I always forget how it feels at this hour,
remember that someone said going
without dreams is like going without
water. Two sprays on the tongue
will release me from shock, but I don’t
notice a thing. I smell the chocolate
factory again, and a dog bites a hole in
my jeans. Their doorman is suspicious
of me today, and in the elevator,
I hear a neighbor say, I can hear him
screaming all afternoon. I start adding
honey to my coffee, mask my food
in salt, eat with fervor, and pierce
the inside of my cheek, surprised
to find the plate empty so soon.
To remember to mail the letters,
I whisper mailbox, mailbox, mailbox,
and tap the address out on my thigh.
I worry about my brother showing up
here too, and can’t forget the winter
I carried a plant home, and it didn’t live
Dana McKenna and Ben Clark currently live in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and have collaborated on over fifty poems together.