IRREGULAR ODE TO BATS
Earth’s surface is a hard place for some.
Bats avoid it.
In the undersky they fly no wait!
Turn and pirouette.
Their way of dance and flit
Is celebration to defy gravity, not fly.
When tired of airy tricks
They zoom down caves and cavities underground.
Hang around, rest and scheme in dark they love.
Rise before the moon above the roofs,
Avoid the trees, ignore the stars,
Skip between clouds and earth.
In their rapid-skimming thoughts
Pursuit of a light supper is social discourse.
Although to our minds insects that want too big a share of our tomatos, beans or blood
Are well gone, stopped in their invisible tracks by bats.
The furry angel mice, vesperilia evening star dancers
Think they chase fresh anchovies, crispy shrimp.
They don’t know its just bugs.
jimmie durham, irregular ode to bats, nápoles, abril 2020