I would read frog as wolf wanting to see words change wanting to name the few not the five thousand murdered thrice-heard boys who cried fly
Three angels share a stomach. Our ears touch, a boat dies. A goodbye. Filmed by no one god knows.
A church left to a church A car on fire all the time The invisible hair of an owl, Fists made by the babies that breathing tried, How I am gone & there are people I forgot to love
An impossible stone. And in the stone the middle sick child of noise. And in the child a clueless crow. Now strikes now. Pain only remembers tomorrow. I won't create god. He keeps asking. The extent of my knowing is that I know it is there, the thing my life interrupts. She, her, field. Leaving on an Ohio road a mouse to invent ice. The angels are fine. Miracles are terrifying.
I am in the way of way. Why would doom be fast? I sleep or love you
The turn-takers god and sleep. Southern attempts at non graphic violence. A mother’s pet wasp. A boy not able to overhear. Spider spelling psalm. An allness. Apple bones and future lambs.
Empty stomach, crow with a crushed heart. Owl, dark ambulance. This is in Ohio where an ear swam into my ear. Where god won’t visit pain and pain will a graveless cemetery in the field of my sex. I’ll love almost anything. Blank moment, distracted by the present. Our first past.
I put my father’s ear to a leaf. Listen for the salt in my mother’s knee. Place a handgun on the pillow that god rolled under. Leave with a dog that can’t hear thunder.
I fear my body. Shape sends flowers to a ghost. They arrive, then don’t.
the valley of insect the lost plural the funeral we held for a pill the low priest of wrist pain his bad back snow snow
kingsoftrain 