MIDWESTERN HEAT
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Hasp (Pond Champ)


Spatch cocked tree shade
that's chicken back turned out 
a teaser of our omens

family needs them either
better or worse - 
between don't hunt

I shake the yeti cup
of road struck and lens 
I shake the temples 
of a good man with a gun

would that I could bleed my scarf 
beneath the hex mark  
pilling down the barn 
it's worth inhuman salt

no it was no sweat to drag 
this weathervane in toe clamps here
past the strip of Early-Bird Aikido 
and checkNowcash
a body won't render in lessons

people aren't so easily known 
and none here the type 
who lick our fingers
to play guess the wind

your campfire shines 
in a wilderness, brother
and I could never 
eat my enemy's heart 
and I am goatshit
with a bow in my off-hand
and all I taste is fork


Zach Arnett was educated at Ball State University. His poems can be found in Red Ogre Review, Hominum Journal, Bending Genres, The Meadowlark Review and elsewhere. He works at the library.
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