Learning to Drive the Tractor

I'm mostly alone, cut my hair,
sorry as soon as the weight
of my braid went missing,
spent my entire life in a hotel lobby
guarding the suitcase.

That kind of hate is stunning,
so clean I stop breathing sometimes
with the sheer heat of it.

Eldon said brake, push. Eldon said
shut the fuck up. Eldon said
he could drive his motorcycle right off
the Lewiston Grade and he did,
and he keeps on going, into an Idaho
spring, all that green making me itch.

Don't give me any crap about Mercury
in retrograde. I could flip it on its side
and that flat coin becomes a blade,
a helmet spinking down a mountain.

Oh give me a home where they stack
the cream in little pyramids. And napkin
dispensers, Land-O-god.

Remember, remember when
I lose my head, to put me down,
put me down like my sweet
Brown Dog.