shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Tyson West


Elegy for Hawkings

Pi day twenty eighteen
I scrounge Bud Light cans along Northwest Boulevard
The red hound braids her urine
With the scat of chihuahua and coyote.
Surviving clouds of a front from the Gulf of Alaska
Splotch and splatter across horizons.
Trolling for haiku I lie skunked
In the prop wash of Hawkings' final weightless flight
An SUV sloshes out another beer can as its mass accelerates by
Studs scraping the asphalt.
Between clouds rorschaching above the sewage plant
Adorned in salmon pink lights huddled by the black river
The stars reorder themselves.