Spin-bycicle wheels
As I turn onto Salerno st.
A canal to cross
So I can toss
My backpack into bushes

Duct tape
Rubber gloves
This is love-true

Blade or tongue
I've become
Something

Poncho hood
In the wood
Calm
Begins to rain
Sane

Hammer-I feel
In my chest
Creeping mist
Tooth-smile