Read the previous poem Push onward to the next poem sun is the biggest man of all

the moderately moderate
the rhythm might be the hardest part
the blood might be the hardest part
the once white brick
now ghost blown yellow
above the freeway

steer, column, screws
freezing together

could the grass crack the cold?

keep the black waves
from spinning you
out
the shame of going nowhere
that breath is not enough

no more notes from the hospital
sun is the biggest man of all

not enough spine in their pens
the antique paints no picture

ground the geography
to what end is your vision?

the black wire crazed electric
crashing through the window
the fire might be too fast
try and save something