In the gut,
In the mouth,
In the irreducible
“Bile” humor,
In the middle
Of the melancholic rainbow,
The green best friend,
The meat seen, in the
Throw-up, pink,
In the irreducible mouth,
In the phrase “didn’t like,”
In the outstretched palm
Beside the bull’s head,
In the disposable razor’s
Singular softness,
In the overstayed shower,
In the overstayed sober, weak
With few walks and perpetually
Fogged windows,
In the salty food,
In the heartburn disguising
The heartache in the
Eventual mouth,
In the evidential upchuck
Of the beautiful best friend,
In the last hour,
In the medicine one shan’t
Have taken,
In the pigeon ooze,
In the cradle of straw
The crow curves upon,
In the ride to town,
In the unlevel graveyard ground,
In the fire
In the dream
About the people
Lighting themselves
On fire,
On lightning, and lack
Of memory,
In the right way,
The soft light,
The voltage, the numeral,
The hand traced to look
Like a turkey,
In the poor posture,
And the sad mood to prove it,
In the best friend,
In the driveway,
Where caterpillars
Flee tires,
Where the earth shakes
To warn them,
In the ride back from town,
In the medical marijuana,
In the grass-fed butter,
Bring the soul back bring the
Soul back bring the soul
Back bring the soul back, she said.
This is drawn from “Field of Vision.”
