Appetite by Michael Haeflinger

On the interstate cratering Virginia,
the faded signs of contests, invasive species.
Winners, losers not so worked up.
Greek radio over New River – ‘Don’t Take

My Dreams’. A goat on autumn sienna grasses,
another minivan spackled in football
stickers, a subdivision full of ranch,
flag colored wind, used cars parked on the lawns.

On the other side of Christiansburg,
dark, ripped in painted pine, someplace out there,
Virginia Tech and a Caterpillar
backhoe, dynamite blasted, some ether.

The blackbird flies over the centerline
and believes in the muskrat’s brains and flesh
and wonders why the roaring shells
into which those monkeys climb
are allowed to keep everything they wish.

About Michael Haeflinger