Seney

The ____ ____ is coming!
(buzz)-(buzz)-(buzz)-ing-
in a lane, off the highway-
a shotgun blast,
slowed down and stretched out.
Bone-shaking, death rattle,
making Big Gus proud.
Slicing through timber (
with the timbre of the
twentieth century)
in one long,
slow,
moan...
sending its howl to the sky,
circling the vultures;
a pale horse,
on a pale horizon
whose sword is
the after-thought of fire...
sending its growl
mind-bending distances.
Never stopping, never stopping (
growing thin, but still persisting)
, dispersing like smoke from a joint
in a grey/white landscape
now stained with red.

Teenage Smog

I know you
like every raindrop on my street
like state lines I've ne'er breached
like a careless suburban childhood
where the sun always goes down too early
and night brings the heavy weight of maturity and crickets
carefully sanctioned by back yard camping trips
basking in the light from a neighbor's kitchen window
Like something too big to be seen
like how a bat finds a moth
by manipulating dimensions,
something I've yet to learn.