toe chunk gone:
smells like pizza now
every day [every day]
until it scabs up
a helmet– [A HELMET]
bounce off, infection!
like bullets
across the grey sky
traveling, [traveling, traveling, traveling, traveling]
consummate servants;
happiness [happinessssssss]
means target’s been hit.
Late, and it’s already gone.
The time for appropriation
left with the stage coaches
when the buffalo all died.
Skulls, ribcages, femurs rest
their weary bones on the turf–
muscle-laden monsters munched
upon the delicate roughage,
sure to save enough for later–
The grass is enshrining them,
filling in the rib spaces and placing
flickering votive candles on the scene.
WHARVED 