Begin with the face of a boy

vowing never to grow old.


With a rock, an arrowhead,

thrown sidearm curveball

across a vacant lot,

slash the first mark

between nose and cheek.


Add detail on July night

with static lightning

and Johnny Walker Red.

Blow cigarette ash

into an aurora,

scar the forehead twice.


Distort it in a shower stall

at Fort Polk , Louisana,

yell muddahfuckah,

punch it, stomp it.


Carve out the eyes

in the midnight rain

under the glare

of the buzzing sign

at the Helping Hand.


Glaze it over a grill

at a truck stop

on the interstate

with grease

from hamburgers, pork tenderloin,

eggs up and basted.


Mount it in the line

at the blood bank

on a side street downtown

9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.,

Mondays and Thursdays,

on sale – $10 a pint.



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