this living nerve
skin duct and bone
or a rusty coil
but there's something here
past my chain-link fence
in this zero place
there's nothing left
a photograph folded into four
falling in the mud
in the afternoon light
I used to care what you said
my heart is full
my lungs give and take
my heart's a wire cage
of springs and rust
of cement and rock
where it was dumped
your voice collapsed on the static line
on the radio dial left of the nine
stay up all night
and into the light
writing ESP letters to your house