go ahead jimbo, whistle
to the moon holding water
whistle cuts through dirt fingers
rest on the shotgun barrel
fifth of old crow
grass nesting
im not fucking around jimbo
im going to cut your throat
from the inside out, puppy in your lap,
glowstick crack
gurgles (when you wrote the last poem you wrote
you were alone in your high school bedroom jimbo
stripped walls white like stuffed dog padding
you were ringing the rags
blood from your chest dry
sweat like an addict
clutching filled holes in your stomach travel healed
years of tearing god off her body
her brunette swords and the other
brunette new york summer heat-
dont lie jimbo you miss breaking mirrors
like a renegade golem
abraham and the choir
all black robes, eels in the shallows)
follow me coal cold
away? dead wrong
if you think theres gold
or diamonds (when you wrote the last poem
knife josh bought you crutched in your double chin
you needed to die, proud of it, told brunette hands,
she’d hold you)
still thunderbolt night
out in the pasture
one wing still on your shoulder
one wing lost to the light