Hotfoot (V.2)

The fodder

fawns

the

leper

 

juggle

forward

the horizon

behind us

 

THAT

 

immense weight

chesty

 

the

blind drunk’s

liquid iniquity

tears whole

 

 

none from THAT…again

 

just like fire

found in

shoe

 

When asked

Next time

I will say

Mary Ann,

Ginger bites.

 

she will

dance with

the pariahs

 

harvest gown

asunder and wet

on the new

threshing machine