the great wild cow bound me to both of them
—at first I was all thick hair—barley
dragged through mud—I ran with gazelles ate
grass drank rivers—I wasn’t there when
he crushed what could have eased his final
journey—stupid I know but I would
have shared what strength I could gather if
—but I was gone by then—and when that
shining lady tried to claim my friend
—I tore off part of her great bull—flung
it at her crown—missed—the streets slipped with
gore—we’d won the fight—but then sickness—
his face rained by my side for days until
a worm dropped from my nose to the dust
Tag: journey
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The cool morning clouds radio chatter
from nearby. This rough dark fabric with me
in air on ground through cruel layovers
now a wheel city
sidewalks half consumed must be replaced orthe last journey was the last journey my
sturdy friend so with hands clean and odd tools
a few small turns and off it pops but peek
inside look an unknown wound festered nowsharp shards of broken plastic slide smoothly
from the gap the room fills with perfume of
action figure trapper keeper childhoodtears trials in rough slivers and
the radio moans the dog licksaction figure, city streets, clouds, dog, fabric, journey, layovers, radio, slivers, tools, trapper keeper, wheel, wound
other animals 