rain
somewhere
animals caught in
baited traps
or the air thick
and yellow
the sun shapeless
and the pieces of
a sixteen-month old girl
are found in a city
five hundred miles away
the smell
of battery acid
like a blanket over
everything
and the rooms in
this house are familiar
the bodies found hung
from the trees outside
have names i’ve
heard before
and i don’t
live here anymore but
maybe at some point
in the past
maybe before
the first tiny hand
was dropped into a
food processor
and now i live
nowhere
while faceless men
decide my future
fucked
