The East Village

Larry Sawyer


Open your chest
to birds
beneath novas knock
the who useless.
Myself the siren, I crash
your final I.

Shout last which only 
whimpers a round 
skin, the explosion
final skull.

Forget particulars, life.
Hear the of. World 
who guns with children? Look 
of swells you'll cross.
Life on here

Volume Ten Index