“In This Our Life”
Eggs break in nests
in beaks of rain
and in this slipper
I run right past your
moisture
of broken bones corrected
a triple digit
helmet filled with live bees
he cracked up,
his laughter dripping
while wearing rented suits in rented cars
the cuff-links bit back
high whistled at the top
train driven off the rails
by cotton-tailed
roller coaster souls
following dusty tracks
to where mountains meet the moon
in an artificial paradise
in the rye,
but it was supposed to be a change
and your hair was a lie.
nicholauspatnaude 
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