We raise great celluloid flags, braying up, and
Shout “HOPE!” Once I went riding out on
A shiny night sky, the stars all crossed, white exit wounds
Why don’t you sing in the choir? I don’t know why don’t you?
Like a heavenly tumor excised
My people don’t march any signs
Nothing will ripen the steps
Leather handed, dry bullets in the wind
There is not one rare thing
They wanted to know the numbers
“He liked boys, never had a father”
Meanwhile, terrible names were created, avenging
    avenging
Get the fuck out of my city
And all day/night: Mary! Mary