BROWSING FOR CHAINSAWS
The carwash that neighbors
the boarded-up hospital
suddenly leaks back to life.
A rust-eaten truck rumbles by,
a keg of insecticide banging
around in the bed as the driver
sprays down the streets with a hose.
Horizoned with corn, cul-de-sacs
drown, become a mixtape
whose songs I unwheel in the lane,
reducing them all to a snail's
trail under the moonlight.
Goths from the Catholic school
roleplay on City Hall's lawn.
Under its flag in which stars
fold into their stripes,
the goths fold into their capes.
Their newly elected
necromancer flips a coin;
a werewolf calls tails.
MEMOIR
live at The Naked Laundry
The end of a song held hands
with the beginning of another.
