– Laura McCullough –


Message anxiety, here it goes, he comes

he goes he went again, was that him they flew

outta that place? Hot. Shot to the head if sites

set. What he did, man, can you get behind that,

anyone? Yeah, little Hitler crying, smack jab,

did you think anything would be different:

dream transubstantiate dream lux and jade, clean

on holy day, massacre on Monday, then

today the boy filling the snack machine, then

another dragging in the water bottles,

sloshing universe of nothing, dreaming of

digging that hole out on the lawn laying wire,

at least it has health bennies. First to go, last

to know, that’s all of us, son. Here we go.