The sun’s slit throat foaming like liquor humor
I remember that Alabama, this one Ohio
as dead as the teats of them old
backbone parameters sniffling out sloughs
religious

Gentry swarmed Gettysburg that summer
I had gone chasing sparks at the welder’s house
I had gone chasing sand through her hips
I danced laps around the arc of running home

The sun’s smitten fill droning over and over
I remember that lava, this one Pittsburgh
minimizing flagrant willows until a low aroma
undefined for me what I mean to say
religious