Southern Roost

twilight flickers to spite and
spits claws and bones out
pipe’s charred

more mouth droughts down
hills of southern flats thru
her flaming brush,

where the roasting porch boasts
more stone moths
than mouths,

swallowin’ raspy tongue buds,
liquid lungs, raw gums
and tooth capped

run fastest from the zippered one,
hands up, raised way up from
same gaze my headlights



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