Bat (an abecedarian)
Approach with caution; yes, it’s a bat!
Back away slowly.
Cordon off the room.
Don’t for the love of God touch it.
Emanate calm.
Forget about it … No!
Grab a broom, a hair dryer, golf gloves.
Hydrate.
Issue a bat warning.
Jack up the window.
Keep moving.
Locate its port of entry.
Mount an armed attack.
Note blood pressure.
Open the door.
Panic. Plead.
Question the desirability of owning your own home.
Rest.
Surround your house with caution tape while emitting ultrasonic frequencies.
Think: mothballs, peppermint, and eucalyptus.
Unearth a few Tic Tacs.
Vary the scenery.
Wear a strobe light.
Xanax as needed.
Yank the window frame out of the wall.
Zip up your bat suit and run for cover.
Gillian Leonard was born in Washington, DC and raised in New Hampshire. She attended Hampshire College and Keene State College, where she received a BA in English. She moved to New York to pursue her MLS degree at SUNY Albany and remained in the area, working for many years as a reference librarian. Her poems have appeared in Poetry Online, Cathexis Northwest, Indolent Books’ Second Coming poem-a-day project, and most recently in Maya’s Micros (a project of The Closed Eye Open). Her poem “Flight to Lithuania” received an honorable mention in the 2022 Invisible City Blurred Genre Contest. She also received an honorable mention in the tiny journal‘s 2025 summer contest for her poem “Deep Ocean.”