I marched acted upon by axe handle
Sunrise. I marched until Arizona’s
Pink highways, and my feet were blistered. And
I marched until conjunction. A Jaguar.
The ash in all the blisters on my feet.
Popped crevices. Driveways. Or even both.
To bleed her pocket. Real. Backwards. I marched
Until too smart. And they came out of the
Washer popped and bleeding into the cracked
Road, the bed, and the blisters on my feet.
I marched until easy understanding
Of the popped blisters on my feet. I knew.
Being able to, I marched. Light puss
Glued my socks to my feet. Wanting. Pillows.