DL051911_10H

training the dog on the corner,

a dark bend where cars pile up.

mother's blue montero.

hiking to a school i've never been too.

digging through a desk drawer, in an office, taking a disfigured half dollar.

kundalini, found center.

dogs

alligator farm

a dog named missy

a house in the swamp

"insecure", thinking, "this is why."

"not safe."

green water and thick mud.

deep under, crystals in the dark against shadows on the move.

a dialogue with the ground's keeper,

"how far a human will go, scared, when they forget to breathe, 

wrestlin' an alligator, underwater."

"when the bite starts, get on the inside and pry."

amsterdam, billiards hall

a memorial, someone's dead and gone

back at the swamp.

an old black dog with a yellow spot on one eye

and missy, a brindled yellow bull-dog, 

sitting together for a picture, wet and tired, full day's work.

a wanderer with a disfigured key to a dilapidated shed

"i live here, i got the key"

a dialogue with a ground's keeper

"guard the lion's den, gotta move it when the weather's bad

they'll break in and live there.

walkin' together, see a few more wanderers, they walk on.

in a city for a conference.

stuck there, missed a flight

and waiting on the next one, don't know when it will come.

a conversation on the phone, mom.

"a room with a good view of 5th and 6th avenue turning into A and B."

stories above a car accident avoided by inches.

back at the swamp

a notice on a lockbox, about alligators

"dive the hands into the mouth, hold it, and open wide."

"pass the head through."

"lookin' to die but makin' a choice to stay alive."

"ain't nothin' but dark and cold, and alive.

"so scared you'll need it after a while, ain't nothin' else."

an abandoned house, childhood home, butchertown.

tall and dark, haunted, a skeleton of old wood bones.

neighbor's single-story shotgun house, white siding speckled with mold. 

fucked up chain-link fence in the back yard.

old man's got three boys.

three boys, the neighbor's kids, one fat, one tall, one short.

neighbor's boys sleepin' under tarps.

digging up bodies in the dark,

mud gives up,

three blood-stained denim jackets.

jeans covered in blood and oil.

a body wrapped up in a yellow rain coat, 

cold grey skin. 

covered in black cobwebs, spider veins showin' through.

throw the boys their bloody jackets and clothes.

"get dressed."

a voice won't stop screamin', "please don't take me to the hospital."

tourniquet.

stop the blood, cut it off.

"get your bikes, let's ride."

headache.