Mute little bird crying on the sill
where is god?
drowning in the river neck choked on weeds
ribs marked with blue bruises
inward outward in

little bird little bird
swaying through the wind
where is
rising to to the ceiling fingers
devil come riding through the
frame of the world

flitting flitting berries thorns
somebody smiles at the torso
tea cup stirs the black streets run
sun sun no sun sun sun no sun
devil through the alley

it’s going to rain little little
falling from the sky grey it's all
streaks down glass wooden frames the
clutter clap of shutters and here i thought
god was slitting our throats

some nights the black torrent
holy mouth opens wide
breathes carriage horse
arthritis
tombs cracked like pristine teeth

where is god? where is god?
walking down the square walking
hands holding empty air and
silence

blood against the window
head lolling drinking corner masking
salt along the tape bounds the
end of time

out keeping light erosion
bulb eyes burnt the devil riding
heaving shoulders hands encasing
strangers set in motion

little god perched on the tower
devil riding shotgun strikes the
bell the evening opens
temple
sickness
hands through flesh

blue cheeks end of time
world speaking maw the heft
oh nothing wasted comes the river
bird rolling brine