# suicide, animal death

brisk feet trudge past
to the sounds of a dirty locomotive,
a noisome smoke hits our face
and a red-hot dot meets the ground.

aureus light meets our eyes
beamed from a river of gold,
impending trikes whizz right past
but the wind still won't fold.

a rotting ave, smothered, flattened
leaches its life into the concrete,
and yet our mind is still unsaddened
by something yet to be complete.

resigned, inclined, scried, with a heavy whine
we grab our head and stare down hard,
thoughts of knives and a heavy carbine
and among them is an ended bloodline.