I split myself
between trails cloaked in oak, pecking birds,
and deer shit,
and the odor of concrete, garbage cans, broken bottles,
and piss-stained shit-stalls--
I shut my eyes and exist
inside the middle, in neither,
urges to cut solitary cabins,
to rent one-room basements,
but my shut eyes open
and slam my head on my desk--
my shoes keep untying,
I keep dropping my things,
stacks fly off my hands and out of windows--
could I be eaten alive
do you think? could I be chewed?
decompose? be compost?
could I be mugged, raped, and shot?
could I be surrounded by yellow tape
and flashbulbs? dead on broken glass?
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