Athens, Georgia

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who that is bare &

looks again at the raininess first:

street-haunted, other tarot:

night eats spite

from its own hands

hardened wraiths

of burning are sharp in the eyes

no page is

bare ever

the page of this street is

not bare

I’ve come to the right

place to hunt for madness

past a line of burning

mules and

men and cane

now I live

in the South: wake up

sharpened & wake

where is the canebrake

others stilted in the rattle

to speak in my own

ears. I am tired

I want to eat from the ground