The Back-Lot World

I still crackle
 Like a motel
 Frontier spackle/ summer backyard
 Shopping cart
 In our shadows
 Late-day echoes
 Weeds/ radios/ Jesus Christ knows your
 Freckled heart
 To walk North as sun is setting
 Hope of getting to
 Your ghost-filled brimming field as
 The still comes
 All those churches
 Splint'ring perches
 Blacktown searches/ stooping faces
 Placing childhoods
 It's a hot-town
 Steam from the ground
 Roads are unbound/ heart-strung and crowned
 Through the lumbered trees
 I killed a woman
 She had it coming
 She was myself and now I am free
 Free to love you
 You unspooling
 When day is cooling rain clouds coming
 Are lighter than the night
 All is something
 Lost in nothing
 Your grav'lly wiry fright'ning mind is
 Built upon itself
 We walk through the Back-Lot World
 To the pi-o-neer frontier where you forgot dear
 Nights you should hold