At the rat-a-tat. I don’t like it.
The kills, I don’t like it.
Care packages,
tumbling, hulking soldiers
dropping – I don’t like it. No,
I don’t like it.
But I like him.
At the rat-a-tat. I don’t like it.
The kills, I don’t like it.
Care packages,
tumbling, hulking soldiers
dropping – I don’t like it. No,
I don’t like it.
But I like him.
But where will they go
when all the world’s waters
circle our shores?
In Texas –
a crunch of many
under the wheels.
Of gasoline and desert powder.
You war people come to my coffee and toast
from shadows collapsed to challenge your host.
Say you, you say, who here’s the ghost?
While a crow stands watch on every third post.