Deputy on a Texas Prairie

like a dog on his knees with bluebell thread for eyes
          he dug a pond from rau muông

                                              or morning glory

the mud beneath that pond         these two brass hands
          julienned here then here the fetuses

                                              who shaped in cloves

who fed my dog in rags         who ran us down like that?
          then dropped that knife into his stomach

                                              and named it sweet

the children asked for water first         then blossoms
          then a haircut then locksmith then

                                              my dog rose up

a cowboy tall and pink who left         those
          bluebell thread for eyes a meadow

                                              he gunned down

our violet stars         they burst awake to dawn
          to pick those stems to bloom

                                              to eat and dogs

Read more from Issue No. 7 or share on Twitter.