I feel like a dentist
charging clients for
the modern tastes
left behind bicuspids
or like the train-tracks
who shudder or scream
depending on the
weight of timely company
these days are marked
with thermal plaids and
black hats on punks
who were old even when
punk was a young thing
"He makes O'Reilly
look like a genius"
We want you in the palace
Pink ice swallows the bottles
as advertised: Miles from ordinary
but the return voyage is
little more than breaking the seal
The tiredness, as always, is
what did her in
the bushy dog's sache
through the autumn's makeup
a road blushing at its own beauty
as if exiting the shower
fully knowing that the same
choking snow is coming
the city shirks the season's hubris
plowing, salting. Newly confederate.
the language charges its meaning
with man-slaughter, second degree
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