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
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.