—DON’T BOTHER KNOCKING

 

 

Chickadee

 

 

We lived like outlaws 

instead of lovers 

in grime and gun smoke 

fool’s gold plucked 

from all our teeth 

Outside a cage of stars 

did their beautiful lying

the stove fire inside 

weak like everything else 

hope as getable as gristle 

tarot cards burnt to ash

Wild stallions tramped 

through our dreams nightly

the buffalo wise and unamused 

stoic in a prairie fit for fiends 

So you cooked the spoon 

while I strapped in 

as the needle sang 

its sweetest yodel again 

Here I am, Chickadee

Here I am