Christopher Mayer
Dirty Jacket
The heater hums because it’s cold outside.
A fist clenches like it’s cold outside.
Streets wet with gasoline,
I step over rainbows,
I step over heat.The littlest arrow
is an ejaculation.
The words come out and they quiver at my heart.
Penitent stranger why don’t you sleep under the elm tree?
It’s dry there and I’ll get you a blanket.
