this contusion colored evening maybe you paint the silhouette of the gaunt tree line singed in 97 when wildfires threatened my development and the swallowed towns the klan had founded the shaded sand dens were party caverns for them who d come hallucinate while we slept scaring our rabbits to death in their hutches i can t remember how i used to live but they ve all cased their jumps fatally i willed it to be in the hours of blankness preceding to sleep oh the years we waste faking remorse remorse every decision i have ever made bred the branching future s mute howlers with burst vessel red eyes roaring inaudibly on the freezing morning walk to the corner grocery what hangs over big empty country reborn in negatives of photos of dusk regret so huge it s on a phantom axis receding beaches hissing hearing damage the miles long column on cold moonlight cast across still seas when my nose begins to bleed some submitted to having their lights put out by the basement thrill killer of the neighborhood i heard being murdered is no experience ten or eleven wounds in it s not about satan or anything you just die it s weird 