When I came down from the mountains
more like Cain than like Moses
the rabbit's water bottle rattled empty
though I'd filled it two days prior.
I knew then.
I just knew
like when the scrape on my wrist
was still only a scrape
from a fall on a hike
that we all couldn't take.
Funny-- I didn't tremble
talking about the two of them
to the Devil's advocate on the way home.
The cigarettes were purely recreational
that time.
We laid in bed like the LI Double-R
with half as much baggage.
Bit my lip to taste copper
since I hadn't worked in a few days
and that Indian I'd hunted for
continued to laugh from his
spot on the shelf
red and white and making me blue.
I'm begging him to give my god back now.
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