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.