I mean if you wanted to
you could come kill me
stick your copper finger in my rotten femur.
Velvet ears rabbit mouths
the scene would be memorabilia
knee socks and fold-over knockers.
Are you a narcissist or taxidermist?
You work in fakery car crashes gin
you scar my massage and contemplate heroin
your blue blob is not a good sign.
All I do is sift logic
our father's geography splash parataxis
our pupaphobia preset to aqueduct
over in over.
I loved you in plaid nonetheless sniffing boat glue
coveralls covered in cream.
It was Arizona in your indoor village
you emblematic of all things saguaro
and you had the cash to be quirky.
I mean if you wanted to you could have killed me.
I used to sit and knit in the dirt.
I pantomimed lilt and a spine growing up.
Mutiny in Montana
The carcass tops the pile of town dumpster trash
Torso flesh shimmering in early morning sunshine
Identity clouded until a nearby fur leg
attached to a hoof defines the victim
As independent as people here
deer defy hunting season dates
By double-daring motorists at 70 mph intersections
with more at stake than crumpled metal
Drivers with guns under their seats
spawn from a long-lineage of mercy killers
and waste not/want not mentalities
They look through the law that claims collision casualties
To see bodies hanging by hooves from beams
with buckets below to collect the blood
Before they're skinned and sectioned
into freezer-paper packets
Or simply stripped for pelt
and decapitated for taxidermic display
Before the tainted meat
is portioned to fit into temporary containers
Clandestined under the blanket of dark
to the dumpster where it's food for gossip in the morning
Mouths chewing on every bashed-in fender in town