Little bird face flew into pieces on the split-rail fence,
sky in the morning like a bleeding eye,
feathers frozen into place.
Ride a horse twice as far as the pavement goes,
leave this earth by an act of will,
fix your coffin in the stars.
Sacrifice with intention not to hesitate
arms of freedom in the wrecking yard,
lips obscuring what remains.
Overhead, raining glory on the highway drum,
ceremony of a deadwood fall,
knocking rhythm into play.
Back of the hand trips the lever in the dead of night,
crow on the crucifix and all bow down,
shred confetti with your mind.
Novocaine and pencil drawings of the fifth estate,
lung and kidney on the open mike,
pull the throttle of the dawn.