Cold Against the Glass
monitoring the solitary mailbox
the corners of its metal mouth drooling
yellow light glinting off
beads of predatory sweat
dripping down its white-strangled blue eagle
pedestrians start—glance nervously about
brains not registering the squat blue menace before them
evil trees hover protectively beyond
as it scuttles across the paved inches
swerving around a lamppost
to trample a stray bike