it’s righteous priapism, refraction
through cut glass. kindness
is another work I can only guess at.
spells the robbery, smoke
from the dog kilns. oh – there’s love.
somewhere, this universe too large
for a thing to be absent. the truth
has it’s opposite; he’s riding hard
on a black/buckling foal, through the language.
swollen heart, fat with hatred – not discipline.
