I was a quick wet boy,
Diving too deep for coins
All of your street light eyes
Wide on my plastic toys
Then when the cops closed the fair,
I cut my long baby hairs
Stole me a dog-eared map
And called for you everywhere
Have I found you,
Flightless bird?
Jealous,
Weeping.
Or lost you,
American mouth?
Big pill
Looming
Now I'm a fat house cat
Nursing my sore blunt tongue
Watching the warm poison rats
Curl through the wide fence cracks
Kissing on magazine
Photos, those fishing lures
Thrown in the cold and clean
Blood of Christ mountain stream.
Have I found you,
Glightless bird?
Grounded,
Bleeding.
Or lost you,
American mouth?
Big pill,
Stuck going down.