house_cricket tender_square you’re easy to spot with juniper wings, crawling the cream ceiling. noiseless, though your brothers beyond the glass rub themselves into sound. i won’t kill you. in the cupboard above the stove, i reach for a pebbled canning jar, place its rim to plaster and press. your body bounces as i slide lid to latch, antennae twitching as i turn the screw. five steps outside my door, i tip you toward the front walk onto dirt and plantain, and you leap the way i wish i wasn’t scared to. 220905 what's it to you? who go blather from