Across the Tracks from Bozeman

Someone has painted the town
on this abandonment,
the old slaughter house—

a concrete block canvas,
a subject of perversion and violence—
the hermaphrodite full fronts
under white scrawls
of FUCK N SUCK and WAR.

Like poetry, this does not
mean but only is,
its etymology—confusion
of abandon and empty—
of bovine blood and a boy
with Montana Colors in hand.

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