HELL IS REAL

warns the interstate billboard
between pastures and pig slaughters

this landscape of disturbance
smells like home to my soul

the sun’s pollen heats
a body of cows
invisible behind dirt devils
mooing in another language

hell is a gas station
between nothing-towns
of glaring bony-leered eyes

the giant sky turns to me
with cornflower irises
through titanic turbine lashes
across unblinking horizon Continue reading “3 Poems by Kylie Ayn Yockey” →