drinking a cup of alligator blood
tastes like the heads & feet we’d see
for sale at the local pawn
we’d make necklaces out of
i’d wear them round my neck
i’m a sucker for the love of the flesh
all things rancid and delicate
but the smell in the summer heat
it still gets to me
knee-deep in the poacher’s dream
he dragged that thing out back and he
hung it upside down & slit its belly open
and then he let it bleed out
he held my head & made me watch
filled my mouth up with its blood and said
“grow up weak or grow up tough”
playing in the swamp of alligator blood
behind our...