A chicken, white ****
Red vulnerable neck pecking
The dirt, for a spec of life
A rusted tractor and gasoline air
Fat and flat tires, and weeds everywhere
Where I come from isn't pretty.
But neither are we.
Pudgy damp fingers in every jar of mayonnaise, licking your lips
Like a dog at a dinner table
Like a wall shaking in the night
A window cracked full of opportunity
The spare change I gave away
The freezer burn on my ashes
The static hiding behind a full moon
A vapid hole in the sky, I'll fill someday.