One night Walter carried me to heaven.
His talons, unwasteful, cleaned me til I shone.
It was on a battleship,
up like kelp from meathook bunks
the rose cutlet of the moon
hot and jumping in Pacific knives.
One punch was my blank head forever.
Gut, then ear, and spinning
clipped the taper of my skull.
My hurt was specific, no bruises.
Just took the nozzle lolling
on the metal deck
and walloped me, walloped me.
My red sky everywhere.
I had no hunger. I danced the dance.
I let him go. We gladly had some beers
and he became the corner jukebox.
One night Walter carried me home:
held his thumbs to my head,
while squinting said Yep.
Cracked his starburst knuckles,
played my super-blue guitar.
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