TOOTHLESS, HUNGRY & WILD

I.

I would go to war to defend my positions, he said.

The room breaks out in laughter.

It is a small room. There are no windows. A man
Pulls on a leash.

Dual extraction farms spring up: crawfish
Feed on rice not fit
For human consumption.

The frail dog chases a few
Dustbunnies. An auction is about to begin.

A steady throbbing light illuminated the scene, shadows,
Skeletons of white and air

II.

Of course, I would. No other reason on earth,
Except to know that I am right.

Stopping only to refuel, to touch the powerlines, to drop
A grand on seven. All letters are carefully written,
With an eye
Toward immortality. Or at least a mention.

Whatever happens
Next

Depends on

III.

Whatever makes you say that.

There are seven laundered shirts in the carry-on.

IV.

What we know of the dark.
A hard wind pushes, pushes.
There's no end in their sights.
There exists the possibility
The great man will find
A soft woman, not in love with him,
Therefore not
Vulnerable, but what if the story fails
Here and the leash wraps 'round
Another man's wrist. Seven blocks,
Even downhill, is a long way to crawl.

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