Hayfield
A poem about truck window landscapes. Another staple of words in the wall.
Hayfield
By Asher Wolfstein
From heart to hand
Pouring down the slope
Tonic fills the gopher holes
Subterranean homes drowned out
Vodka seeps across the cells
Brain crevices discolored stand out
Ditches flow black with bile
Blood bubbles up from the depths
Lumbering carcasses graze
Rays of sunset light
Dry out the stench
Skeleton beast climbs the height
Deathly silhouette against
Fertilizing pain
Green become yellow becomes grey
Nothingness fills the sky
Kills the weeds won't even grow
At the center he lies
Trying not to breathe
His dark altered gaze surveys
Block the passage, control the flow
Shovels cut into the soft gelatinous matter
Static void is his constant foe
Four hooved carcasses shake their horns
And stand in court
They watch every drink
They see every knife
They judge every gun
Sentencing to life