The Inmate
Autumn flush and cool winds
no snow
the lake slides like a snail
grits teeth to the very bottom
and looks for the lost eyes
it drinks with
Tango of streetlights
morning breath circles
the bottle
its green kingdom
waves in the heat
the jailor washes
he’s got two teeth
half a beard
and good notions
about life and making money
all day he salutes with
loud jerks of his tongue
the petitions
the laws
of nature
and to the moon
his dreams
of being
king