R/ckets and S/ntries

feel loaded for dead? you make child noises in night along rivers stealing fish from old man Jenkins, who threw you loop over the world when you were younger, now it is an image often pulled from testifying that you could understand the arrangement of blood and lines and staying alive for another minute for listening, your word done over again but excuses luck on, the strange cage joining into which yours is a name, meant for blowing up Arabia as just a practice or vice versa when the steel wind turns over the news, you feel good along with rope, the cavern has been updated to jail, your mention of impediment makes us all laugh, our political process insists on a state, the weary close doors and find funding, perhaps you could join the journey into logging parties and real tomb for, if you'll, a boy paints a picture of a graveyard because it is his feigning wish, you too could be that cause and effect