in the leafscratch of a possum
feel the fear of four tires

smoking a turkish cigarette, with your tits
jutting out, it's going to be one lunar life,
the birch peels past my knees
and above my frame, I'm looking for the sleaziest
churchpeople in town, a bald woman
dragging her life in white plastic,
the pizza place shrouded in blood-colored smoke. Let's

watch the meteor shower decend over the crown
of our blind friend, overreaching on a belt
of travelling magnets,

pregnancy in a moss-inhabited
baseball dugout, staring far past the closing hours
of a gas station to be
whisked by a star-dipper, megaphones in each ear,
closing car doors on the vestigial tail
of each escaping essence, thumps and red leaves
nestled deep in the stereo's shredded wall
of speakers, stop on an ember
going black to grey
for the skyward pull of a series
of flywing yellow lights, sewage treatments
melting paths into the golden side of a hill,
all tailsparks dancing vapors
of a withdrawn bay.