My Chainsaw Fins

   Stateside
    Clapboard Junction
    Small town avenue
    Behind peasoup willow
    Way off from Mama's view
    In the reeds on lake trim
    We snagged lips on plain tip cigarettes
    Drawing hard the heat
    Got drunk on Pop's home brew.

    No moon over cane struts
    When I slow baked the bean
    And you did an eel run
    Oceanward Unspecified.

    The sun a thirsty fry on
    A crow spit turn flaps beneath
    Sky is cirrus optimum
    And I'm true to elver.

    Trailing leftwards
    I see Feel you
    Chainsaw Fins.

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