Great Lakes

I had most of you, some of you, now
I have none of you, 
energies–with
no desire to track your fluorescent
hooves, my spectre not a threat

to the wind, only your spine: I’ll blow
each vertebra like an instant KO,
done with being your roof and your

floor… Back from stoning and ready
to eat the globe–a dish best served
French: la vengeance. I’ll find you

swimming in the dark, cold hands
sweeping through daisies, make
thumps in the stars ring a little louder.

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