And so the missing/ Adam thwarted
“his scab flaking,” your diurnal
redressed & televised: we were just/
“we were following orders marred
by meadows Adam fragged for your
witnessed; you’re redrawn & disarming
in the shade. Whereas, the sawed off
index colors the soil, and your news was
planted on its harbored, dumbed shore.
You said it was fluorescent here, Adam.
If your wrists were slit from its canvas,
its signatures if sexed with a bullet hole:
the scent of burning skin to be gnawed at.
His derelict fortieth day against a rib cage
