Warm Enough

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Warm Enough


I thought the sparrow fluffing up 

his feathers on the oriental fence

was not a fluffy sparrow but 

a microwave, his twitters slicing


quite invisibly as gamma rays 

throughout the yellow breakfast nook,

and I got shuffling up to see

that no, my oatmeal hadn’t cooked


sufficiently, but evidently something

had, despite the spitting rain.

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