POSTURE


every punk
what is dead to past what floats
every thrash neck to the howl
i wolf in the thicket 
pheasant cluster across absorb space
the less than i can still be
a rebel
a fixed dog
a washed hand jammed btwn two mounds
termite hotel a crawl through the wicked
money pit a stretch meeee thump speed
car noise scamper into pitch
my muscle is new muscle
mount olympus climb plains chest boy
a board a less than flat hide of sun
what is heaven
what is a drag
i wander gyp toe in the gravel road
a jay a hawk a poet a river
the lewis & clark the poem abt land bridges
i am justin
forgotten
ded bc i was no body in my meness
earnest i mean cloud over my face
is to be bird
to smoke out the flock
a street sweeper
i sunny rain
w my makeshift weather confusion
it's cold in april this year
yr tiny fingers in my ears & run thru beard
i could kiss the fumes
of a damn star
could be the tallest sound in a roar
the ocean was me to take
it takes