MTC Cronin
The Bats Are Out
       for Virginia Saketas


Why could you trust a man?

The night has let the bats out
My eyes are full of cat’s sand
The punches of the day
which had been tangled in dusk
push through to befire my body
all temporary

Why could you trust a man?

What is your corruption?

The bats are out unquelled
by death’s violent spit
or the otherguess of the dark
covering the boy of me
Twiggy the black rabbit is here again
grown to street-corner-size
monsoon-size after a year away
with the shuddering

Hello Twiggy!

The bats are out and the cats
are in my eyes like cold listeners
to the defiant life in which I exact
myself and steal back
pardons

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