They say brave but I don’t want it.
Who will we mourn today. Or won’t we.
Black all the windows. Lower
down the afternoon. I barricade
all my belonging. I am mostly never real
American or anything
availing. But I do take. And take
what’s given. The smell of blood.
I breathe it in. The dirt so thick with our good
fortune. And who pays for it. And what am
But fear, but wanting. I’ll bite
the feeding hand until I’m fed
And buried. In the shining day.
All deadly good
intentions. A catalogue of virtues
This is how I’ll disappear.