Vic Chesnutt Wallace Stevens
i saw a blackbird
thirteen ways
then strew a fist many
mountains away
my evangelism felled
brutally taken
by breezes that rubbed me
and lifted light raven
i stretched to borrow
fine antebelleum
to encase all the scrapings
of us civilised fellow
i wanted to stash them
to secretive cages
with that fabulous blackbird
of thirteen stages
