Worse

homeward sitting on a carpet
parts apply to their missed appendage
gain, then seek, another pasture—something
urban haunts groping laundry furnace management—I’m

not thirsty for winter’s long appetite but
nonetheless
highways shoulder their scorn

from neck-tie down the dreary apricot early mourning signs of river-bed dries
tightening up loose ends, nettles
begin to pick their pry with a bet off settling on a double-fine, found
out later

we we’re double-crossed
sugar co-opted
sold for a hurdle between two levees and
shrunk to a porch creak yelping for oysters, but

look it could’ve been worse,
crows could’ve
and squirrels could’ve

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