Sonnet for Alice
Jackson Watson

Red ribbons of necessity pinned down to a bead of blood. Frankly
they float tentacular in my vertigo grief vincula
or other shitbag latin like
TERRITORIA LIFE-TO-DEATH         the torn seal my torn cul

All of heaven speaks with a wave but hearing
your name it’s silk like silk feels between the fore-
finger thumb & eye escaping
the mind of death is blameless red

Dear Alice yesterday the screech-
owls hid in complicated blankets clicking a-
long like the heart of Dorothy
on the bending brick road towards heaven

these fucking cuntwads want to keep her out, your bronco rides
roughshod on necessity.    I bless the shreds to thank thy mouth