Rejoice With The Day Lily For It

We Talked Death With Burned-up Intensity, Both Of Us Drawn To It Like Moths To An Electric Light Bulb. Sucking On It!

Now, In My Middle Age, About Nineteen In The Head I'd Say, I Am Rowing, I Am Rowing.

Blue Eyes Wash Off Sometimes.

My Death From The Wrists, Two Name Tags, Blood Worn Like A Corsage To Bloom One On The Left And One On The Right.

There Is An Animal Inside Me, Clutching Fast To My Heart, A Huge Crab.