Originally appeared in Windfall: A Journal of Poetry of Place, Spring 2019.
i have crawled through muck
grass trash and dogshit to reach
your cement journey your
skateboarders on steroids your
stroller joggers your bicycle ninjas
only to find you staring
at your gods on a screen
i feel their rays like filament line
ensnaring me in death traps
in your dirty river backwash i have come
prostrate before you through no
untoward ambition of my own our few
daylit hours filled with your
cigarette exhale o
the humanity i wave
my claws beneath
your gods’ devious
bait please watch out