frank

al

forest

return

in pieces we rust, return
our precious scrap mettle to the kettle

the trypot boils furious the brows
we resort to dictionaries for meanings obscure, unsure

eventually become the oil of our essence,
our lingering, eternal presence

in the guts of our friends
we make, after churning about, amends

ernie, david, austin texassss

sin city goddammit

chip, and maybe jack, crossing

the crossing, lawrence

eric