Rope Trick
Father staggers god-blind beneath the burl
of glossed stag.
No wisteria.
The tasty young on sleeper sofas, suckling
papery fame.
Balloon fields blur in raw dark.
Puppy play in yellow halfway houses.
Soft animals born in
treacherous communities.
Clip the fevered rabbit.
I eat in tulip time.
The tattooed mountain sons in maggot furs
haunt in leather meadows.
Vehicles in West Virginia.
No chains.
Neutral objects.
Plastic handcuffs in cereal aisles.
A man who knows his woods well.
The red tractor pulls the spotted pony,
curling a question in tall grass.
Dahlia tickets lick the moss clean.
Eyeless, the execution
bird stuffs a sugar worm to his papercut.