walker, scott
doctorie
give me a c
for this
babaloo
opiate me
with that
key doctor
please
don't you
laugh doc
manos arriba bien
with springs tickling
less than two feet
from your chin
lemon bloody cola
gonna sponge you down
save the crops
and the bodies
from illness
from pestilence
hunger and war
i journey each
night like a saint
to stand on this
straw floor
our uniforms
are loose
they look
flimsy night
black shadows
under the peaks
of our caps
shaved up to
augost i still
hear them singing
hey you
this isn't through
just for me
with my
please don't
you laugh?
again and again
i journey tonight
i'm a saint
the tiles speckling
darker and darker
around my feet