'roadkill'       i'm fifty inches sad   and fifty stitches bad   black and blue and violet hue   spit in the shiner from your shoe   curse me, po' white trash   riddled from a Hustler's ash   crucifixion under contradiction   pay 99 cents for a year's subscription   slime and chic   will not rattle   poker face for a coonskin battle   one more reason to dignify   the lack of integrity   incestuous smut, strapped upon me   lain upon a gravel road   bloody and gutted   and the oaks   look away so shy   they have birds singing in their eyes.   -hb   6:12 a.m. back home