A motorcycle accident whistling softly through blades of grass
Is my half-mother where she did come to wrest me from the flaming wreck
Another shovel break inside and I try my best to get drunk
So what’s the big idea that keeps wine and spirits from entering my brain
The birds of prey fall from the sky swiping fried chicken from my hands
I draw my lunch in close as my brother gestures with a hard boiled egg
A sound from hell the vultures make as they swarm round the still-born
Is my half-mother where she did come to wrest me from the flaming wreck
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