sweet belly one

grafted on the first
light
this heaviness does
not stop, does not lighten,
the simple violence of this
physical undoing parades down
my skull all day
like rain in the
sunniest hour
mouse traps popping-
death clicking through
the
night, through the day
the birth rate
runs rampant, hunters are
mad with liquor
trying to stay up right
shooting
coffee Irish whiskey, jack lights
they fire my brain through
its fish bowl
to mouth its broad emptiness
with in it
the swarm of blood,
issues
rivers to the lake
to the canons
better served by the holiest murder:
a fish cut- the feeble fed,
the derelict sun
mooning on and on loving like a cat
lapping milk, as the I creatures
drag on our apatites for days
and long days.