Steele
beeeeeeeeep
i cut down deadwood
let the fire chew on it.
i collect poison. i drag
myself by the shirt
down the street. all
my wheels are in wheels.
all my eyes are so green.
i bay back at the wolves.
i contort and resemble a
great fang. all my venom
runs down me and pools up.
i stay like that balanced on
spent rage. i talk and i talk
and i talk.
what a generous gift!
a sharp knife for surgery!
a sewer to piss in!
a red summertime gloom!
i might hesitate too long!
i might haul off and swing!
what part of me am i!
i’m the whitetail that shakes!
i’m a big scary panther!
kind of funny but yeah!
i produce what death takes!
there’s just shit you don’t know man!
there’s some shit i don’t know!
what a hassle to be here!
ain’t got elsewhere to go!
tin hat
i could hear my jaw crack
and tear loose and tumble.
i couldn’t run the turkey vultures
off.
my neighbors don’t fit and
can’t breathe in my bag.
there’s no cloud will slide south
to hide the sick yellow moon.
there’s no reason to know—
but i knew.
Steele is a poet writing in the Shenandoah Valley. You can follow them on twitter and instagram @laborseller