cower

run little walnut roll like the fire is your tail
spin little lyre bird you have function and a brain
can't you be the trident that pierces falling rain?

you could be a thunder clap that crashes mountains
you could be the thud of a kick drum

sleep like an ostrich
sleep like I imagine an ostrich sleeps

stand taller than that, be straighter and more upright
stand taller than a small man in a bar fight

curl and unfurl
be a boy or a girl

sleep in the belly of a cave
be frightful. behave.
be a raucous riotous grave

you too could be the sleeping wishes
found under the fingernails of the desperate and depraved

meanwhile the boys inside gut fishes and cry out for the waves.

hearts song to the shoulder blade

this is the last time,
could it be at half speed.
baby, hear me out
  could you could at least

slow this down
my heart is tripping to keep time
trigger finger stuck
 lagging behind

there is a white wall against my shoulder
there is chalk dust on my shirt
there is a brick wall caking over
all the beating muscle is too much dirt
this is the last i time.