RISE

The wreckage of my neighbor’s red truck
poses, heroically, as a reminder to what we all could be
The moon, pregnant with light, bleeds into space
We watch, as the pool thickens and expands,
blotting out blackness and stars, yet red, bloody red
Sweet red vermouth in the icy galaxy, brandy from earth

Blood fills my eyes, as I rise from the patio
Grass screams beneath months of frost,
frozen shit makes nest. Willy, terminated,
drank too much, where is he? Joseph, truck driver,
five DWIs, now in torment. Uncontained,
mortal, lifeless branches, sparkling rinds of moonglow,
withered souls, make suitable sacrifice

Stars on our heads are beacons to orgasm
Eruptions from below, trucks passing on highways,
intestinal wanderings, holes drilled in ice, All
gather together our meander, this ruminate
making of words, killing of syllabus,
and may the archangel of masturbation save Willy’s drunken soul
and may our own drunken souls RISE

Let them rise! Let them rise!
Laugh at my spirit in the walnut tree
The familiar grin reflects headlights of trucks on the highway

And they said, the light would come from trucks on the highway
That is what they said