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Sport 36: Winter 2008

following distance

following distance

in the pineforest tonight I find
the antlers of a stag maybe left
by some hunter to collect later I drag them
further into the woods I'm filthy
and bloody and you're halfway
across the world sitting in an apartment
with Lucy on a sofa letting her accent tamper

with your own tonight
you and I will sit at
computer screens leave greasy
fingerprints on the glass watch our mouths
a pixilated semblance of how we were
milliseconds ago

and after leaving Lucy's you'll be driving
past the beach cigarette jammed up against
your lip as you approach the rim of the pale
strip mall affixed to the street with your
wrist thin over the gearstick while I walk
groggily dragging these antlers in the dark

wondering who left these red gashes
in the needles why were they hacking
at a body out here only to leave vital
bits behind I keep seeing those hard chocolate eyes
that hung on the walls of our town hall
and the pine needles pool
around me like french fries

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tonight the internet will split
on a slurred photo of your face
and it'll be all I'll have in my hands you
listen when I think you're not you hear little
gasps between my words whites
of eyes reaching you
can see the tiny rivets in my fists

still clenched around these antlers
and I'm thinking I'll let them
drop in this jagged hole in the ground dug
by some animal probably even the hunter
won't come out this far