Country Music
an online journal of poetry
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A.T. Grant





Ricochet cap. A grip alters a head open.
Splatter cats gut my feet.
Glory mutilates the beauty violent conflate twine patch.
I hang my shrapnel on a gold chain. I break
my wound into a horse. Rocks in my dress
I wear them into a photograph of my death.
Fred holds my hand. Fred holds my hand until
I am no longer human. I once tried to
swallow my own tongue. I sent my own tongue
to attack me. I sewed my tongue
into your ear as punishment.

It made me such a happy, happy boy.