THE SWORD

for John Coletti

Sanjuro feels
not unhappy
he’s just broke
camellias floating sly
off-white pile
like black-eyed suds
I asked the question
everyone else thought obvious
how do you fuck
the mountain when the mountain
won’t hear you pitch woo
and when’s this war over
two parts I always say
Sanjuro liked the amputee look
on survey in a Western town
doesn’t mean the words are different
like this guy I know sells
dolphins turn out to be brutal
wildlife dudes dressed up for payback
one hand on the stomach zipper
the other over heavy beard
Sanjuro didn’t want no trouble
he was just built deadly
like sleeping in the way
way back with no dogs
Sanjuro looked at it
like a backwards antidote
infecting the merely bad
with a debilitating goodness
he guessed it
was something modern
maybe post-Malthusian
turned out
everything Sanjuro
had ever loved
depended on this
one simple decision
is a man safer
as the sword or
as the fleshy parts
opening a way forward