one of those times when
Jimmy Carter
would kill himself
in dreams of delicate
sheep and the amazement
that is seen
in eyes of the most viscous grey
like
in Orem
or Phoenix
in Frisco Texas
that life would spring
from the very pupils
of despair
that
the fevers would emasculate the tremors
the scene
of the moment stretched into the fractal
bang post creation
yelp of the swelling
