in the morning-time
to prove my stomach
of sheet metal.
I buckle and bronco.
Oozing odometer,
dripping numbers
on the kiss-red bricks.
In old age, I'll need
a cute, blonde nurse.
I await the sunset
holding black wool
over my eyes. O
vicious bruise of
morning!
You are a crater
on the face of Mars.
You are a crater
growing bigger on the
face of Mars.
Have you found water?
Are hawks circling
you like vultures
descending on carrion?
Let me carry you.
It's been a while
since I've used these arms.
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