when the outside woke me up

conjoined, sunder welkin 
celerity in the boiling of eggs
they’ll go grey tomorrow

windowsill of bird boots,
questioning if this is shoeshine
or the bread line

breakfast rolls by on diesel
heading towards a coast
selling blurry-eyed waffles

moose body bag slumped
on the jaunt of an officer
whose hood is up down there

hedgegear cleaves a swath
expunging months in 13 minutes
spinning top scythes, death rolls over

2019

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