Outside the bar club, the violent youth wait
for sneakers and boots to find their target
between a kid’s ribcage.
Someone should have told the kid
getting smashed to pieces
not to live like a mollusk with the skeleton on the outside.
This is not a place for the weak,
the muscle is holly, the muscle is king,
and the fragile, the hero die young.

Mostly taking sun

In some huge, heaping gulps

In between cave-time.