Outlaw Poetry

drag to the wet street smashed cans and spoiled meat

discards hope and care broken bottles clumps of hair

standing sentinel of waste my early morning haste

to share loss dirt and grief unnecessary sheaf

of what I leave behind ejecta of my mind

I lose you every day,

Fragile lover.

Fickle, easy to mark

I still haven’t broken you.

On desk, on table, on couch, on floor,

You tease me as eager hands grasp.

You are indifferent.

I am complete, only now whole.

Sheets of dismal grey blanket whip

As ice-thin light colanders the wool sky.

The howling wolf wind

Lunges at the throats of sheep cowered in faith.

The dog days of Summer have never been more welcome.