we sit at the one bar in town
this is before the stumbling
walk around the storefronts
everything closing or burned
to the ground the girl
who sells jewelry is also
our bartender she tries
not to listen while we talk
about our history with Satan
Satan the names looks so
strange now the devil he
was the clinking that came
from the electric heat at night
pitchforks and sharp hammers
not blazing heat but a warm
summer night was his time
he came while I slept to make
my heart bad my head full
of something like radishes maybe
sharp, summer, surprisingly hot
the sun gone now, the fence
blacker and blacker against
the garden it must be so dark
out there when we leave
it is soon after the fire one
dark hour the buildings were there
now they are something else
because nothing can disappear
these are the rules of matter
I love a head filled with radishes.
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