The worms populate the
sidewalk when it rains.

       When people are under
       showerheads in dark houses.

After the rain,
Before sun-up,
the worms are synchronized

The worms stretch out quiet,
toward high ground--
nonporous ground.

They communicate to each other
stripes on cement
each end equally a tail and a head.

And the people invade

the worm art is disfigured.
Those not pasted are split,
anticipating coming bikes.

And the halves ask the halves:
a better death than drowning?
a better death than drying in the sun?

Originally published in Parnassus 2010.