Beyond the Watchtower

Beyond the Watchtower

Light flickers
in the mansion on the hill.

I slip out of grammar
into life.

Fathers.
Daughters.
Departures.

Between my fingers
a cigarette glows.

I correct my body
until I no longer recognise myself.

A pickup truck-
weathered blue.

The engine is running.

Complicit.

Wolves in us.

Get in-