chicken feet

I keep my heart in a cage of bone
with space for curiously unjoined notions
about pickles and tomatoes
We are ringed by a moat stalked by death
Shark fin scythes like a dirge with skin thru thin water
In a land where only mad dogs
answer the selfish prayers of pilgrims.
My house walks about on chicken feet
when we become bored by the neighbors.

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