Hook what you've got of skin & bones in a cut
of yellow fat at the spring pin, & spread both
opposite horizons - jaggedy jaws

firmly down wideopen while an enlarging breeze
distends the stink, & before gloaming darkens
alert Death's nostril has caught it; in blueblack

Death hides its hunch, from every trunk it
snouts out & sidles behind each neighboring
mound & pittipats spotty around the stars,

Death's gone so famished without you yet!
Death's sobbed aloud on its insipid heap for only your
unique salt tang that its glut lacks,

your condiment, your zest, whet of its oo yes! last
best appetite. Squat there the night in your own long-
simmering hair, until, just behind wristbeat, when Death

nips, just as you slip your tongue aside
Death's tongue & the trap kicks, shake off your
poor damp paw, negligible, & quit Death gnashing as it

no doubt still will, & hurry, hero! plunge with me
downhill into the clutches of the buttercups, just let
miserable Death yell.