11/9/18 1:17AM
i asked the old blue ford tractor
how badly it had melted
since i perched atop it
and it shut off
let me freeze in the cold early winter
it just wouldn’t start again
i guess i keep talking to plastic
screens, demons and everything else
is deader than dead and astral
i haul sticks and trash across
windy prairies
and my green truck
zig zags all over
a bunch of greasy slackers
wearing coveralls
saving up for a lexus
sweet symphonic vicariousness
i huff and puff
until i fall down
these days are so normal
each one as the same as the next
but the tire is leaking
the ruts always come
whether i am pulling sticks
or bits of hair out of my teeth
brown piles and mulch
penetrated a snowy wind
i am a star, and the youngest of few
stain yourself dark mahogany
so that you may wick away rain
and inhale diesel fume perfume