she said it to no one

still life

there was a glass of alcohol
placed on the counter
like something out of hopper.

there was a small white cotton yarn ball.
around the ground it had run on a string, growing smaller.

there was meat for the fine black ants
under
the piled bone china.
there was fruit for the bats
hanging jointed from the shadowed
rafter.

the ants were falling off
like
envelopes from letters.
there were atomies in the liquids
there were atomies in the leathers.
the bats had rolling beady eyes,
and the alcohol stood waiting
like it had just been poured while
the string ran around
on the floor until abating.