Jay Passer

J a y  P a s s e r

next

Shape of Bullet Headed Home

mom got lung cancer. girlfriend sells body.

now write a sonnet kid

when things look bad hat crushed down over eyes

asleep slouched in final seat back of the bus

how about some homemade explosives and the

names of people responsible. + stomach for violence.

sky painted black in case of pursuit.

the leaders feed graves with us. mother and I

wrestle on the bathroom floor. alert the media.

war is perpetual. the animals know it.