Vast horizon
fall in place
ain’t no tunnels
under those teeth
none of em are fake
Cops parked
in webs
of shadows
under a bearded tree
bear witness to
the levee break
Rusty remnants
symbols, rites
nothing to see here
cause reality bites
Unpaved streets
a shack of trifles
jacked up pickups
sticks as markers
butts of rifles
A brush of gray
comes creeping in
we hear them laughing
we’ve heard em sing
eyes unblinking
sweat entangled
in their brow
nothing to do here
but pray.