I was a necklace of dandelions
grown dusty with the ash of cigarettes 
tripping through the hall on laundry mountains
a milkweed seed in a Mountain Dew can

who is God? I’m not sure, it’s rude to ask
but the threat of hell looms in the doorways
in the fattened mouth of the copperhead
shooting from the bush I walked too close to

when the sun oozes through thick canopy
into our Camaro, we tale the truck
up ahead with its faded vinyl fish
and I peel my cheek off the smudged window

green carpet-burns on my denim knees find
playing animal felt better, human
felt like yellowing trailer walls and
digging for the messiah in the yard