Submarine Laramidia

a cracking azure worn out bowler
encircling our sun
no more making clouds as we got older
we're wiser with our runs
Uranium and weapons testing
is how old wars were won
bad old ways good folk avoid now
we don't want these guns
so roll that wisdom down the river:
Texas could sure use some



devils exist
in
locked spaces



a majority of humans loudly
cuts down all the trees
rumbles through the jungle shouting
killing everything they see
meanwhile the smaller critters run
and get out of the way
these monsters destroy everything
but they'll be done by May



driving past the brick walled place
the house on Gianera street
all memories of losing face
that's where she finally butchered me
that slaughterhouse still has a stench
the smudge of tears and ill-intent
in that space all hearts are bent
so if you go there bring a tent



Oh would an Aick follow someone gothic
of course, I bear that cost
as well as the land I'm friends with the scavengers
the strange, forgotten, and lost
crepuscular morning and evening are more my
purview than midnight and Moon
but Sister Death dances with me in the desert
and of the same mother we're born