"The Effects of It."
"I died last night, nothing but a fire.
Mute coals, ash, water had been phased out.
Drinking from that cup again.
You difficult. You spitted upon.
You gassed out.
You bath water.
You oven.
You venture.
That holler hovers, crushed up like a cup, rushed under cover,
all tore up in lung valley.
Black lung whisky, abolish.
Maybe one.
Maybe one more from here."