three am monday morning im sure now were losing our mind

how big is your town

i open my fist and
show him

about this big

the brown and yellow
of my glove and the
dried whatever

it looks terrible

i know right
i know

its the same hand i use waving to the departing starry bodies
advice on a napkin they left in a bag i used for school

trust your body to the foxes

i find it years later spilt with grape juice and tobacco
outside my window
a handsome grin
vanishing into the thrushfire
a still twitching
limb in
your
jaws