An incredibly loud frog
cackles one cack at a time,
a rugged blurt, a single grate 
of grating sounds off in the dark.
Then silence. One single burp.
Quiet broods. Then a hiccup.
A dog barks. The crickets
are hysterical. Clicks of cackle
coming out of the black pitch
of a throat not unlike other frogs’,
a grumble in the bumply hide of soft warts 
that are meant to be there,
green and speckly
perfectly worn skin
under the neck of a long life
living under shrubbery. 
Who could imagine it?
That you would sing to the night
crouching in a song
that rumbles the dirt
in the luscious rub
of your own rhythm.


for David Meltzer
from ‘House of the Unexpected’ (Wild Ocean Press)