Running circles like crabs
instead of straight ahead,
tumbling on kitchen floor,
steaming milk
double-boiler on the stove,
peeling down snowpants,
pulling feet from boots
lined with Wonder Bread bags,
warming up with hot Quik
and a grownup magazine,
reading poems
from a late-night cockroach
about a cat,
cookie crumbs,
and a piece of paper
left blank for me to fill in.

Poem #2 of 30 in April! This is responsive to both Magaly’s April 1 and Mama Zen’s April 2 NaPoWriMo prompts to the Real Toads.