999 Z95

nothing is that bad
voice like a frayed wire
nothing burns that hot
scream in a bag
nothing feels that good

singing

singing
down the halls
of daddy’s barn

nothing asks a man
to blow the horn
so tirelessly

I’ll be your bloodhound
I’ll still live
at that old address
sniffing up daddy’s bones

I’ll be your nothing
if you coil around me
like a sputtering
leaking hose

all my old things

away

-

away