there’s a wolverine in the basement

two crows on the roof


reminding the devil to trust no one

no god-boy’s burden of proof


since Ulysses ate Prufrock

spat his barnacles on the deck


and Miguel shaved the iceman

scrubbed his toilet groomed his pets


after Joan rebuilt her Buick

parked and tarped under the shed


still my black-assed Irish tongue

licks the ears of the living dead


chosen by the woven letters

selected by the collected trust


my mother remains the beat inside

me swimming my father’s dust


there’s no reason to trust me here

no resurrection of blind hope


that only happens when floating

dying rivers and mining dope


or logging facts regarding senile

black cats and old stags in rut


you’re the daylight fire banking

sleepless nights that kick my butt


who knows how you want justice

what earth kings or heavens send


ghost horses galloping silent

you’re the blooming moon my friend


you are that voice marking my breath

yes you’re the reason I begin


you’ve always helped me ignore

the bullshit always helped me pretend

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