it burrowed into an applesauce jar, hooked
a copper bowl to every tree in the alpine grove, screwed
shut our nostrils and fed us horseradish stench, collected
our drippings, left us zero-eyed, left our cities lush, left
us wandering in nine o’ clock light
it brought a stagecoach to a chained door, broke the earth
into sixteenths like rocks inside cake, tilted the water
to rush down our moss walls, threw its sinewy fingers on
a coarse bloodied wood, combed her hair charcoal-white, left
a single snow pile, left the grass to spoil
it plastered a centuries-old cardinal against a gasoline-black
sky, collapsed the final few widows, scattered handfuls
of burnt barley where they lay, embalmed a snake with visions
of a red winter,
rained coals all October, cut a glass curtain from the flaps
of our throats, watched
as we broke through and staggered into a cold taiga, sent
a hooded girl after us with a tall ax
Leave a Reply