Hotshot

I have
never
been
asked
to
pour
words
around

the
slack
taken
out

the
onyx
shake
and

tooth
loose
sway

rust
in
the
blood

confines

ballast
and
bars
and

bars
and
ballast

heels
thinned
with
wind
noise

bad
skies
and
sirens

a
town
a
blur
a
way

teeth
ground
down
in
the
roar
of
it

ears
marked
with
it

years
piled
with
it

book
of
coats

and

the

shadows

of

leaves

over

head

racing

and
the
moon

the
glint
of
ruin

ended
age

diesel

the
road

the
panting
road