i.
the bleeding horsewho is everyone
and no one
who knew pollock
and picasso
who died in ’56
and again in ’63 and
again in the summer of ’97
who lives
stumbles blindly down
all of the empty streets i’ve
ever lived on
crawls crippled through
broken glass alleys
through november fields
in upstate new york with a
crucifix carved into his
soft belly and his
eyes gouged out
who is pain and
the lack of hope in
a sunlit world
things that matter
whether you
talk about them or not
ii.
the burning girlsays she loves you
as she’s dragged through
