19 – Odds Are…Odd

No doubt,
if he had a phone,
he would have called
a friend (or two):

Hey, I just got dropped off.
Corner of Short Beach
and Maple.

Maybe someone
would have picked him up.
He could have walked —
it’s less than a mile,
as the crow flies.

But neither
crows nor rats
have phones,
don’t cha know.
What would be the need?

The probability
of slipping out
of a dumpster from
the back of a semi like that?
Slim to none, I’d think.

But I’m no rat,
now am I?
Maybe it happens
all the time?

IMAGE: White Rats, Shibata Zeshin. Poem ©2018, Jen Payne. National Poetry Month 2018, #19. For more little poems like this, pick up a copy of EVIDENCE OF FLOSSING: WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND! Purchased your signed copy today! CLICK HERE

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