I knew I owed you a thirst
that could permeate passion

just a student on the jobs of life
myself

I heard you’re reaching around
I saw the destruction underway

the rippling punch, square in the face
but you got up

I watched you shift on the nose of dive
taste your own blood and survive
and nothing like that is squeamish

Then we found the scores on the tracks
Marksmen, darts in your back

I shouted for you,
went to bat for you.

Such a promise of the age
to lose and know deep-down

there is a winner, there is a thirst, there’s a winding-arm

I’m writing
what a drunken rage I’m in

A decapitation of a promise
stinking up the room, you not being here
So to students that cross the train
on the west side of the tracks

The thirsty souls drinking submission with
styrofoam cups filled with ambitions

Don’t lie down, life’s fights in your hands
drink those dreams like a winner

Spit out trying
Strike fear in the gut

Take the wind out and
prove them, you’ve gotta
right to be here~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley