Wide Left

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Whistle down the bones

Exhausted from gumption &

Multiplying like twin voids

When the go-getters get all they got.

 

Failing backwards has its own aplomb;

Hieroglyphics of match-stick men

Humped on the back of a black Mariah

Divine a flight through the goalposts

 

On a crisp autumn afternoon.

The goat well-cooked,

The libations pungent and flowing

Like a crested river in Springtime.

 

The mountains lachrymose,

The sky pink and fertile,

The woman painting their eggs

And the men plaiting the fallows.

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