Bugs Crawl Back

glass ligaments in hands,
stars upon shoulders,
and glass sinew in hearts.

do you know this hurt?
do you know this dirt?
bird bones are hollow and heavens forget.

Kentucky now has a face:
beautiful and woebegone.
I wrote this poem on lastnight's rumbler.

you tell me stories of the future
while roses form on your cheeks.
words are left. you are somewhere.

you are in the air.
I am on the ground.
with bugs.

rollie pollies
and a ladybug
and any lion.

glass ligaments, plastic veins.
I am here.
near a telephone and a river.

the backyard is big
and it says goodbye to the seamless dream.
anger is contagious and I am an addicted idiot.

I could order a pizza
and sing songs about the past,
but tomorrow keeps calling me in the middle of the night and waking me up.