Clouddead Rifle Eyes
A murder of mosquitoes, moths, and gnats ravage the fluorescent
flickering ribs of a motel lot flood light, their frantic trajectories
perfectly sketching insane in it’s halogen corona.
No collision... no drinking of bulbs at long last... just a panicked moon
drove dance they bang their insect eyes and mind at in the dark.
note: It takes an Extended Stay America’s common black self cleaning
line of ants approximately 1 & 2/3rd’s hours to completely excavate
the fresh kill carcass of a large New Orleans cricket.
point: Minnows have teeth in their throats.…
Thrice we passed this truck all packed with pigs... this truck is always
packed with pigs.
You can not tell nor ask a pear tree that it might only have the bird’s
nests happen to its branches.
Have you ever marveled through the pretty pith of your turned around
eye at the bug blood gut modern art on the fender of your country
crossing rental van?
It then becomes self evident that nature is responsible...
to peel deer from desert fun...
to sleep through vulture mouths...
it’s femur like a chopstick through the paper.
Nightcrawlers all dried up
on the summer sun sidewalk.
An ant with a little bit of leaf
looks like an ant with an African mask.
The red raw salmon steak
in the gas station urinal.
A full feathered dead pigeon
with its entire skull exposed.
A single long stemmed rose
resting between two mounted antlers.
A spider spitting web
on a styrofoam snowman’s head.
Car salesmen asleep in their cars
on lunch-break under the highway on-ramp.
The x-ray of someone’s tumored skull
left to scream doom from the gutter
with all the other preventative waste,
no name no face.
All the oil drills
on some sick sedated rhythmic robot rape mode
like brain-washed flies at a carcass.
The highway shoulder dead dog’s
fly devoured eyeballs
as garnish to a four lane state road,
and all the southern Cali orange trucks
headed to somewhere there’s winter.
One armed men changing tires in the shoulder
for pretty ladies and their well dressed daughters;
engine oil boiling,
undercarriage eaten by a billion ants of rust,
bacteria gang-banging in the window cracks.
