Not About You.

Or each, or all, no gods' decree 
satanic sprawl in false black caves 
by Roman bones and stolen manna 
from old stones: it is
in fact 

a surface squall. And I the instrument 
defense: a surface of much bone 
and light, but cheekbones fat 
and hair: I meant. 

We love low stakes 
raised high to romp 
and more than each, 
and you, curb

-stomp. So let's just park it 
out in gear so poncho-slick 

We Oudda Hear.