Deify the lonely,
shadowing figure, moving
slowly out of frame. The dark
aspect, trousers, limbs
wrapping themselves around
the whitest day. The road turns
the corner of light
too bright to see past and you
must follow the shape of a man
to taste simplest water.

You’re walking on
desert sand. You’re stepping up
to the altar of confusion
when you turn cactus corners
round the tumbleweed you marked
for road sign. Lips sparkle
strawberry bright, wet,
dark eyes suck up the sun
as you follow the shape of a lonely,
shadowing man down brown,
brown land.

Did you bring a lamb? An apron?
A scythe? Something to cut out
life with, something to smooth
the corners of your ditheistic crime?
Before you drink water, you must
kill for him.
Are you ready?