March “no”, write “no”, “no more”, wrapping the stumble in the slouch, wrapping the slumber in the lope,
The false glimmering enticingly in the hot sunlight,
Everything slick.
The year winds itself about the day,
The month slides down the spine of the journey
The cold gasping trout asking, asking, asking, his gills stammer, he is an incredulous wonderer just like us
As our boots in the dust as our mules as our tall ass fences as our screens
As our asphalt
Steal us, help us, segregate us, blind us,
Crack us
U.s
.
* * *
