THE CRICKET CAGE
There is a cricket
in my bed, rubbing
her feet together.  She

says, "this is no
amorphous love-song,
this is my nature.  That
is why I rub
my feet together."

But I know, she 
knows she's lying.
I can see it 
in her cricket eyes, feel
the quaking in her
exoskeleton. I am
hypnotized by the movement
of her antenae.  And I

her emperor, am poised
above her in my royal yellow
robe embroidered with
scarlet-eyed dragons, flavoring
my kisses with black pearls
until I hear her
rub her feet together again.
                --Spare Change