I promise there are weeds out here

Weeds thornier

Than some

Nightmare spinach

That would poison you

With a gut

More busted up

Than Popeye’s

Swollen

Jaw.

We're hungry on the stoop.

Our skulls throb

In empty elbows.

We’ve had our fill

Of venom greens.

Been chewed by them, spit out and

Curled up cold with an ache

To disappear.