Sole dead brother, gentle mother in the downstairs at Sequoia
I'll never forget those towering cedar, that curling oak, leaving Graw's knuckles raw on a lawnmower in Homosassa
The peppers are growing out back on Sawyer now and things are getting less rocky
The days are less stocky, less full of lumps, there are still slumps, but we keep moving
The strong stuff is soothing but I'm losing a piece of my soul
at least I don't feel that way with a bowl
A slant of words over fanfiction love and D&D plots
A spilled spot of paint on your eisel, sending words as if by magic spell, fluttering hands
The rhythm in the sand, a cross band of constricting conflicting chaos catastrophes copied
A hot sheet, hot meat, wrapped it, in cellophane, plastic

A species in decline
days spent dead and alive
  Sat Sri Akaal
The last cigarette burnt out just now
where should I go to get
  another one
Offer me hope with tired hands
lend me a moment with quiet ears
  A moment to depart

Pills and malt brew
A small sliver of the moon
Would you like to be friends?

Gales of hammers and grass

Eyes on the snackbox

Lackluster lovelocks

Highsocks

The way it feels to extinguish a candle

in the middle of the day

can you even

feel the

absence

The smoke trails come back like full sails and red skies for a sailors suprise

The child chokes and cries in a bombed out building in Hodeidah,

ribs like scars on her chest

Eyes bulging, flies circling, the vultures have come, the birds have

come to roost

A beleaguered cry, Spartans die at spear point, the blood of Tsirhc

anoints, reading prayers sideways

I am ripped open, seeing it go like this

I am torn asunder, the state of things

Find me in the pine, find me in the needles, buried nose deep

in dirt

Trying to find the cat tracks around the saplings

With sureness we will fall

Hammers and tops and all

On this organic meatgrinder ball

It's either all in, or none at all

This Texas night sky got me
full dipperin'
Tongue slippin' in the grease, frying pans on
the asphalt grit
Hot eggs n shaved legs n french fries,
moonpies and marshmallows
Good fellows, hot bellows under the bronze bull
boiling briskly
A child born in space doesn't age as fast,
lives longer,
and becomes callous to the people
"living in the dirt"
Heather's putting the clothes in the dishwasher

It took me so long to learn that:

Firing takes place
when the recoiling groups
are between .020 to .116
out of battery to prevent
contact between the front
end of the barrel extension
and the trunnion block

Verbatim.

But I did it, and so can you.
Why not?

It took me so long to learn:

The distance between
the face of the bolt
and the base of the cartridge
when fully seated in the chamber

Verbatim.

But I did it, and so can you.
Why not?

Plunging, direct,
enfilade, traversing,
elevating,
elevating and traversing,
swinging traverse, free gun, bipods,
tripods,
useless weight which
spits the ending of living stories
and breathing saints