Saturday, May 18, 2013

Fremere

Lead shot punch through wood.
Spot the hole:  curlicue wisps
rise, white smoke.

Infintesimal dragon, hide
deep as you can in a two-by-four
and die there.

A man and his wife tried
finding your loot.  Brass shells roll
by his boot.

Girls of Juarez, here we come!
Santa Muerte's roses fly
skyward -- love

and hunger lie buried in a ditch.
Decapitated Lothario!  Your novia
was a witch:

innocent if she drowns,
guilty if she floats.
Wear a coat.

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