Amber belly, not quite anger—paused on the path:
The pressure of earth has turned
babies into gasoline.
Starlight abandoned, the freeze of too absent,
unsheltered, is distant from this day.
Prayers down the block solidified into
sandwiches—handed out in the park by the
—an audience, an army,
a fragile–breasted friend
on another level
—backtrack to trip a bit
differently the essential
steps are undone—a matter of
praxis, the muscular aspiration
towards a Louisville Slugger sweet
spot shot into the gap