Broken, Not Paid For

It could move you, if you was to notice. If it wasn't the way
it was. If you were somehow different from the way
you are.

Incalculable losses tossed off like burnt matches, the pink
of singed skin glowing an ember of remembrance.

I remember you just fine. You used to steal catfish
from my farm.

Oh my lord I am heartily sorry for offending you.

In the summer I cut the pale skin on my arms to ribbons.
In the summer I nursed my wounds and named them.
In the summer I pressed my hard cock against the hot sidewalk
and cried out when you touched my sunburned skin.
In the summer I was unloved for one thousand years.

And cried out when you didn't touch my skin.


I will never stop loving this world.
I will never stop crying out.
Now the rain ceases.

Now the grit accumulates in the creases.




It must be amazing, the way we
keep gaping at the wheezy
contraption.

How the lights shine
in the crazy dark.




...