turnpike
white heat
white organ
mother, child of cracked lips
the sore is open glow, hang there
suspended channel
at home in your
high speed police chase
face pushed into air
the body pronounced
the carved god, gone
again
gravity
keeps thin bones
kissed together
tenderly
the way mother holds baby
the way of
sleepless light
in tv tubes, all criminals
sprinting past like
myth in stolen faces
the body silent, restored
again
July holds the hottest air
how cold in its shaking