shattering from black clouds,
lightning sparks my cigarette.
her smoky smell a fitful shroud
reminding what it means to be wet.
i inhale the barking of rain
as she speaks to a once wild pet.
and the bus stop, a lover's vein,
sells tickets to just losing bets.
sit down — sit down, i'm three quarters hound
with a scent i can never let go.
floodwaters flow towards hallowed ground
slicing land so nothing can grow.
ms. god, ms. lucifer, i'm bare, i'm bare
all I have left is my height.
and she laughs at the punchline "fair,"
so written in blood is my bite.
