Outside the smoking & beard-burdened trees—& always again, it is winter
Always again children streak into traffic, & again, and always, I’m decapitated
& feel as though someone is lip-tracing
The zippers of my self-inflicted bites & it is true—the only thing I can
Fully understand about sickness is a tractor dragging a stolen ATM machine
Down main street Or a body flinging itself
From a train bridge & the sparks Lightswirl & the sparks
This is all about hunger, I said to the man next to me in the waiting room
Pointing at the bruises Jesus Christ, he said, you should have seen it crawl
Back & beg Even after we’d dropped cinderblocks on its face
& here you are You are right fucking here
& the sparks Here & the sparks
