Two Mule Deer. Turning their heads as one. Watching those of us still on the trail. It is a Grand Gesture and does not go unnoticed. A Sparrow Hawk waits and dives. Please! she screams. Every moment is sacred. How many creatures know this? The deer rotate their ears with deliberate intent. Waving at us with the well practiced indifference of newly minted royalty. First published by Iconoclast
Tastes like chicken but like everything else it’s not. The liver is Nagasaki. The lungs Hiroshima or Jesse James and Dear Old Death comes to us all but the quiver is fantastic. Like lips full of bees.
Sidemen crouch in stairwells. Waiting to make their move. Microphones hiss. Like snakes on the take. Parker crushes his smoke and Raises the Horn. This is a Gig Baby and the liquor is Top Shelf. Remem
The house smells of apples and hard cold water. Your dog whimpers in her dream chair. Rabbits pouring out of countless bushes. Easy pickings when you are still. Outside there are stars. Cold and brigh