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Prayer Animals

Do not try to convince me the United States is anything other
    than savannah.

Weeds burst through the sidewalk.
Drought washes the car windows, then wipes its face

    with the same dirty handkerchief.

Secret meetings.
The newspaper explains about the food chain.

I am the gazelle in braids and powwow jeans.
Sometime before sunset, I scan the horizon, then bend

    my head to the stream.

The water is cold and clear.
I have 355 degree vision
My only question: Will the hunter use the rifle or his teeth?

Impetus 25
ISSN: 1044-7490 (c) June, 2000
All rights remain with their creators

Web version designed and edited by by Haze @ UrbanDecay.Org
Print version edited by Cheryl Townsend at Implosion Press