You have heard it said that God killed
the dinosaurs with bullets from space.
But you would be wrong! I killed them
with kindness. There is nothing to be afraid of
in this century or the next
that does not already make you tremble.
Ryan shows me old mattresses
wrecked by love all along
the highway and I mouth what Christ
taught me, “Blame softly,”
when we fail to regret our wrong
and hungriest moment.
All the horses are dying without
knowing they’re dying
and I pity their fear of the unknown.
These clothes are unnecessary.
The sun is not embarrassed.
My heart is a sleeping deer
about to be awakened.
I think that’s what I mean,
wake up. Don’t reason
with a plane crash,
clean up the fucking bodies.