Poem: jack and the giant beanstalk

when you scourge a man
what do you get, steve?
all the smallprint
before they get me underground
we are all good men, all of us still-
it is a dry month and i am still a man
with fingers prying tissue
i doubt what will come from dead cells
no longer pink but cloudy grey
and overconfident

virginia,
we are all good men, all of us still,
send us out to die once again

not waking to this cold bile morning
alone,
i love my children, i do
based on the gallon,
with beautiful empty mouths
and beautiful empty heads,
antebellum-
mr. kidney and liver
and mr. and so what will it be today, boys?
i thought of and believed in our lord,
and grandfathers of a glasseyed persuasion
served with...

what have i, my friends
what have i
for every year i saved for you
my life inside,
albert humming his moon river at the four corners
and katie with no dress on,
remember her, lipsticked; too short hair?
and when will we meet again?

light, light in aged stains,
signaling faith and victory
on a lampshade.