upright, I display the dead
battery
of my dreams.

daylight
is the bald spot
of my father’s
god.

of late, rumors
have surfaced
in regards
to my mother’s
infamously
pastoral    

aerobics.

how to jack
a scarecrow

off.  how to go

unheard
by the occupant
of an outhouse.

most people are not women, and think
only
in birth

scenes.