the bridge sings
something about
it being too late
to turn back.
nothing is real
out here, where
the snakes have legs
and the girls
can't kill.
contrary to unpopular belief,
there is power in leaving,
just as there is stupidity
in pushing a grand piano
around the desert.
the stag bones of the bunny
marks the back of a jacket
just tied to a tree
and blowing in the breeze
like the beast of beauty.