blood is a movie and none of it
yours
/ be the buzzard a shadow stuck in a trash bag
/ be the knees full of milk
mouse, teacup of the missing stork-
owl, lamb of night-
this was god. he was sad and everyone noticed.
at birth we are given a ladder we can’t see.
our feet
bare
the many plain
sons
of god
their parking
tickets
in forgetting how many to save, god wants to know
are you still
seeing
things…
I remember the animal, the appropriate
mask…
once held, is the baby
less
wild
is the room
in the room
them raccoons out there is tarrying*
up
yr bible
–
*tearin
–
border: my eyes can’t stop what the back of my head is eating
mirror: a godless hyphenate
–
my man is a body whose moon is vacant
–
they is out there to flood
sightseers
with basilisk
porn
–
in the valley of my choking
the fingers of my father
are going
dog’s-collar
purple
–
out-the-way churches. and acne
a deleted voicemail of a boy asking his mom how to prepare a past meal. my handwriting an insect I want the best for. dream and the moth it won’t finish.
a classroom, a house
but never
the ghost
of a church
–
the boys
they play
scarecrow
loves
horse, and the girls
the shepherdess
on a boat
names her dog
–
hey, distance
lose
the baby
(says
the empty
box)
disguised
as
as if
I would know
kingsoftrain 