Language begins
to peel away from you,
the skin stretched,
no longer lubricated
by faith
in renewal.
Names have started
their dissolve. Letters smudge,
the neon is erratic, leaving half
the words in serrated eclipse.
The dots have lost
their jauntiness, the dashes their
bravado,
and the little that holds
quivers, knows
that something behind
is being
disembowelled
by an ancient buffalo logic,
unhurried,
systematic.
The police sirens, the barking dogs, grow louder.