ladies fielding over the dead and

gopher burrows

who lung about

the neck

like dugs

Marty that peeper

discovers mid-bush

a shape like his mother

whacking at game balls

shit for aim dropping

crows mostly

as if she could skim corpse

reads

but who's counting

he inflamed a soft

his bad pose like milk

feedingone squeals

at last booting her man

into body she sits down

as if legs

timeout for a weep two left

Marty feels he's entitled

there's dark behind skirts

just in time

she lets him lie down

with breasts