rope-dagger magical deuce! look!!
look at those sky-ripped highs: hear-see
the ripped sky tumble its crazy-full fists
down, then up
then up so-high-enough the fall
will kill me.
Didn’t the last 3 deranged endangering rages
find myself finding myself dangling
out a window?
I don’t have the guts?
but the guts are in the gang
I split to where up
peaks so deeply
it soars back up, soars black
up to force me, fake me—to make me