it rains small frogs sister holds open her hands    we place the bodies in spare tires  

until they begin to shiver back to life  we tuck them back into darkness

love is a bell we say in English    we mean love you     sleep well

we toss bodies around   we know we are punished gods    

we don’t stay behind the chain-link    the ditch where the flood lasts longest

and the crawfish emerge from their tomb holes doesn’t swallow us

we overflow   we collect water for our enemies to drink    our enemies

who fail to beat the wind do not drink    and we beat the wind that fails

the frogs begin to vanish as if they never existed  each one its own lost shape

like holes in memory and as they disappear we pray to the god of vanishing

we really believe      in the invisible river that runs through the street

where our mansion rests         but reality is dark      gray

and rectangular      like a coffin for the undead  and we live there   

buried in plain sight