Bradley's Website

Well, no, I have never seen a dust bunny
being born. But I hear they come from the same place
that shoe laces come untied, or where
the b in bomb isn’t silent, or maybe where 
those damn kids finally give the Rabbit his cereal.

All I know is that I turned my chair to the wall for one minute
and suddenly this studio apartment is full of lice,
using the scum around my floor drains
to limn memoirs in morse code and Sanskrit.

These buggers don’t know that I’ve spent thirty years in Plato’s Cavern
and would sooner shadow box 
an armada of marionettes
than tell even one white lie.

Silly Emily! Verity is not italic. 
Tell it in urgency! Tell it in gospel!
Tell it like my radiator, who is always reminding me that I am poor
and that she is unhappy, and that she is leaving, 
and that she is taking everybody in the building with her.

Last night, I confessed this to my neighbors 
and then stuffed our walls with angel feathers.
Now, if the fire alarm rings at midnite,
they’ll be glad to know at least one tenant 
still believes in grace.