wild onion fractal

Grip

A deer stuck in mud up to his chest
the Louisiana sun beating down on his eyes
we recline on mud dog soul folds
too drunk to think of a way to help

When we awake from naps after dusk
a cottonmouth is seen sucking blood out of the deer’s neck
whispers careen through the swamp trees damning our ways

Like church burning speed freaks
we stay hungry

The deer is vomiting

Finally.