Mark Neely

Triple Elvis


Hillock says life is grand-

            fathered in so just
as might spit chew drink rot
close in on any laquered body

you can


Hillock says barn it all

            barn a billion
chickens shitting bingo barn
every hair-sprayed autocrat and

porn star

take your guilt

            your concrete-booted
desire and polish until the holy dog
starts ankling its tethers

take your lead regret

Hillock behind which crouches

            gloom stroking sparks
from its cat hair coat I declare
your shape a dirt mound

dead roil

under declare you

            a masochist by
weight a dandy pushing
a little red up

between your thighs

a road

            hillock burns up
behind us as he fires
toward his untimely

(great) demise

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