- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Vision 11.29.16
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Raccoon is dead. On the side of the road with his guts out. Vulture was hovering over him, wings spread. Owl is dead too. Tufts of feather waving in wind. Spiral fires. The rain spit a little down but nothing can contain it all. This is karmic debt. Someone put their guns away. The hunter threw stones and did it that way. That was how my people did it. The snake dancers and secret keepers. Don't pray for peace. Make it. Last rites happened over a month ago. Get ready but it will be okay. I did what I could. Salt water all through to East Lansing and back. Long prayers in corn fields and with charismatic dancing, yellow belly pythons, and rosary beads. The message was bleak but I tried.
