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Beady black-eyed bird perched in the bush
outside my window cocking his head
from side to side eying the squirrel-proof
feeder that is coated thickly with a layer of
Vaseline not to keep the squirrels away but
to keep the rats out of the feeder who have
taken up residence in the pampas grass which
separates my house from the neighbors and
who have multiplied (the rats, not the neighbors)
at a rapid pace ever since the neighbor's yard man
killed that perfectly harmless snake, waking me
from my daylight sleep...the harsh and unusual
noise of a man pounding a snake to death with a
stick and wanting to stop him but unable to open
any windows in this old house which were all
painted shut by careless painters or demented
residents, perhaps Joe who used to live here and
briefly made his ghostly presence known when
we first moved in, but now only occasionally pulls
the shower curtain open if we leave it closed and
sometimes makes a rattling noise with the little
lever that closes the drain in the bathtub which we
never take baths in because who wants to lay
around in tub filled with soapy dirty water, fecal
cells floating around attaching themselves to your
chest, your hands and then you feel like you have to 
take a shower, anyway, so why waste time that you
could be spending watching the bird who is eying
the greasy feeder with great suspicion.

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