Chupacabra

by a rock sailing backwards I spy you

drowning a little kid that loved once

to graze my barriers with rum fur

bleating in the midnight celestial

harmonies I called you curator

of my bounce still buxom anchoring

to a fog in june with permanence

the always sneaking-in-ness of the lake

is what filthed it when we went there you

married the interior sinking

of witches christened me with face dew

drying itself on a spit that slants

circularly I was able then

for the oops homicide of welcome

and acadian boats slow gunning

ferry wheels into the small foot which

asked you to cross and the falls broke time

to expose your velvet parts hoofing

at hey and the devils that drone why

melt the blonde winter you glittered down

before it consummates a sucking

of glass into something you regard

emptily before you sank you might

fill this molten bucking and christ me

as far north as you sleep the shadow

follows as much hair as you misplace

it is a rape of the coding come

in this cot that sails you lay me in

goat hay and shit I knife you howling

how taunt me with your breeding and bare

bottom feeder you’ve growled your hunger

and one summer I’d offer a vein

but I’m too dry now to be your drink