“Your One Last Chance to be Beautiful”
Beautiful racket, freeze us in our dread
and beautiful rockets, close our eyes
and beautiful born to be beautiful rain
the last chance hours have cost us again
and all of our mimicry falls in this purse
and all evolves no matter the curse
our chemical wedding
and the fluttering of frogs
and forgive us those beautiful trees
who give us our bread
furthering events to stand alone
the scalding of the troll’s mother
who wants to bake us for breakfast
spread like rose bruises
across the gulch
closes the horizon
with the blind glove,
the fisheries’ transparent nets
laid bare on a floor of scary faces
dreaming of a naked hill, spread-eagled
to awake in a cornfield
barren and gagged
and all throats multiplying
for each blessed tear of nourishment
fever in the range
the imprints of a body falling
through nets and stars
and changeling: you hatched a demon.
nicholauspatnaude 