You only care when there’s a buckshot to your back
You only pause for the delivery, the action
The match has gone up and left charred the skin

The memory is still there, from years of solidarity
The repeated visits lend the permanence
And no more than an empty lot now, I leave

There once were 2 lilac bushes and a field for my dogs
We lock them in crates now, the outside is only a bathroom

I haven’t had the heart in me to unchain them