Jessie Janeshek You Need Me Your Ice, the Brightest in Town I lack decorum                                  an ox cart or gypsum   a dirt road repurposed                                  testosterone sun tricks. I miss your wide moustache                 orange tingle    how you'd call me criminal    slide in the hot springs ass first. The lake is ephemeral, albeit red-horned. I hold the little green deer on blue dunes wonder how much of this cold is psychology. My hands will fall off or I'll cut a hole in God's side to stay warm. See the Wolves! I live your love                                           on Kitchen Mountain.           My presence means cages           hung from wind tin. Exhausted by arduous cryptozoology           I need your Holly           Hobby-hugged bible           grit in my pussy           white gesture of bone.                                                       I had that bad dream                                                       you knew my vitals                                                       saddled my corpse                                                       dumped it in sand.                                                       You called me sissy                                                       glass eyes in the firepit                                                       sick mother duck ducking. I'm one of those sites along scenic byways hatching the hounds. It's all I can take to stay in this town.