Friday night and we done sweated it out.
Then saints shed sashes and epaulets as if there is a school for this. Girls girls girls wielding axes. I mean breaking glass birdlike. Wings all weapon. We rip through wind. Tangle in the vine of men. Gravel and butter in black and tan I frame and caption: my own slick grin and boy oh boy how you studied me on the museum tour thinking you knew all the licks.