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Chasing Truths away
with a birch stick,
           |` found in the woods
seeming strong —
Each one scampers
           like nervous rodents,
\,’,\ frightened and full
of my gutter-growl.
I swing that thing
as the autocrat
           Against the rats
<_!_ and their numbers.

But I know less
than they know —
I am naïve ( [] )
           or impulsive ;;
My baton was spawned
all with dry rot.

One swat splits
           ;—; the sorry weapon
to my exposure…
Verity forces
an infestation
           _\/_ and I have no traps.