from yesterday...
home on the lam
ore renamed
the part where
you place your junk
it heaps all over the room
maybe you thought junk meant
what you keep in your pants
or the trunk
that hands out signs in front
of the elephant, but I’m not buying it.
in essential nature, the clam
is nothing more than
a lickable burrower
take your friends for a walk
and see the new statues
made of presidents
our nation’s capital made
easy to grab at—just
love someone wealthy
the newest form of living is found
dead on the seaway
and salt will make its home
anywhere the wind takes it. this could
be a way to continue. this could
be the winter.
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