Imagine the distaste.
The tiny toolshed,
locked up good and tight-
the wisteria curling its
purple-blossomed fingers
along the windowpane.
A hearty sleep
in the clean,
verdant spring hum.
But- alas! Oh the shock-
like eels you have grabbed
at in the dark,
ransacked!
looted! Oh the vandals of a
college town. Just like them
to pick through trifles,
chucking their PBR cans as
they drunkenly stumble over
the garden gate.
The disgruntled nature as he
saw the lock-
haphazardly gnawed apart by tipsy
bolt cutters.
The exasperation in
seeing those sly foxes
make off with the
rabbit.
The shelves shiver in their
nudity, the window moans
with the wind running through its
opened body.
Deflating on an overturned tool chest
with the sun rising in perfect
indifference.
[Inspired by the Granville newspaper police reports.]
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