Song

dirt fingernails
old animal bones
a small white bust of plato

how you sing slung like
heavy rain-wet jeans
over the back of
a kitchen chair
singing like eating
hot french fries

greasy eyes
scattered paper plates
a few flies on their last leg

what songs! & autumn
smoking a joint
to crimson shavings
the wind is walking
boldly up against
the dreary siding & rainspouts

the interior of elm
my bed is shadow-warmed
window sounds like it’s hurting

silence some sip
the surface of coffee
but me hell i
gulp the whole cup straight down
without moving an eye
on outside sonatas